At the Edge of Heaven
by Griffon Sabe
Summary: The long and winding road for two souls. After losing everything, will Shepard be able to overcome his past and heal his heart.
1. At the Edge of Heaven

He laughed. He had failed. The Reapers were still out there, they were still coming. He hadn't stopped them. He hadn't saved the galaxy. And surprisingly, he didn't mind. It was finally over. All the anxiety, all the pain, all the loss… it was all finally over.

He sighed. He was so tired. He tried to forget it all, but he just couldn't lie anymore. He was exhausted. He was so tired. Tired of the fighting, tired of the hard choices plaguing his life, tired of the death… his life was a parade of death and lost. First his parents to a mindless slave run on Mindoir. Then his entire unit on Akuze. He had fought past all that, but he couldn't do it anymore. He had finally found the reason, the reason for his entire life. The smile, the bad jokes, the sappy yet wonderful poetry; he had been happy. There was more to life than duty, then revenge and anger. There was her.

He was actually going to have it all: the job, the friends, the duty, and the girl. His life was complete for one brief, shining moment. But he chose duty. She was gone, ash in the winds of that pitiful little planet. Just one more death in his life, his empty life. And now it was over. He gazed in numb acceptance at the flaming wreckage. He failed and he was going to die. He could only smile as the numbing cold suddenly vanished in a flash of pain only to be replaced with a scorching heat that burnt his final thoughts from his mind. It was finally over.

Shepard was nearly blinded by the brilliance of the harsh white light. All he could see for the first few moments was the intense glare right in front of him. Harsh and unexpected, the light hurt and tears moistened his eyes. Slowly, the glare dimmed, though the white light was still too bright and caused him to squint. Suddenly, a shadow darkened the glare and the contours of a soft face and wide anxious eyes swam into view. His confused mind exploded with wonder and unfettered joy. He smiled. She was there, waiting. They were going to be together.

The beautiful face glided into view again, her soft blurred features glowing in the radiant halo of light. Her lips pressed into a tight, worried pout and her eyes shone with restrained panic. She looked scared. She looked stunning. She was still so beautiful. He smiled once more and tried to lift his arm, to reach out and caress her cheek.

His breath stuck in his throat as fire burned up his arm. His eyes widened in confused shock at the sudden and furious burst of agony. He was dead. Nothing was supposed to hurt anymore. Dim voices rumbled at the edge of his struggling awareness; jumbled words laced with hurried tension. He tried to speak, to call out to the voices but his throat constricted in mute scream of intense pain. He tried to sit up, to move, to do anything but his body only tightened and shook with mind numbing spasms of agony. His bones felt like they were shattering, pieces tearing through his burning muscles and his skin melting, sloughing from his body in pools of liquid fire. His entire being was smothered in maddening and confusing pain. He was dead, this wasn't possible.

Insistent hands pressed into his chest, gently pushing and holding him down. The voices danced at the edge of his awareness again, but he still couldn't understand the muted rumblings. Finally, a cool rush flowed through his body and the pain faded just a bit. Still, he wanted to reach out. He needed to touch her, to prove that she was real. Her flowing hair and worried face teased him. He needed to feel her again. He tried to reach out, but another faint cool rush flowed through his body. The pain dimmed as his muscles grew heavy with numbness and the harsh light slowly dimmed. Still, Shepard desperately tried to lift his arm one last time. He wanted to grab on, pull her close, and never let go.

But his arm refused to move. He screamed silently to himself as darkness smothered him and his consciousness started to drift away. But, with one last gasp of desperation, he managed to whisper once just before the darkness consumed him.

"Ash."


	2. A Crack in the Ice

"You were supposed to be monitoring him, damn it!" Miranda's arms trembled as she leaned over Shepard's unconscious body, her shallow and panicked breaths shaking her body. "What the hell went wrong?"

She glanced up and glared at Wilson's back as he punched in various diagnosis programs on the nearby terminal. Miranda took several deep breaths, trying to calm her frazzled nerves and straighten up before he turned around.

"Everything reads clean." Wilson shrugged "There is no way he should have woken."

"Well he obviously did. Find out why before it happens again. He is too damn important to lose now." She straightened her shoulders and stared right into Wilson's eyes. "Actually, make sure it doesn't happen again."

Before hearing his reply, Miranda simply spun around, her hair whipping in a furious arc, and marched out the door. It hissed shut behind her and she stopped to take a deep shuddering breath before exhaling forcefully. She heard the muted strains of "heartless bitch" and "ice queen" through the door as Wilson loudly complained again. She shook her head, deflecting the familiar jibes and quickly set off down the hall, her heels loudly clicking in the silent corridors. She didn't need anyone's approval. She had a job to do and she did it. Failure simply was not an option for her.

She calmly strode down the corridors with her familiar confidence. She was one of the best and she knew it. The Illusive Man would not have trusted such an expensive and volatile project to anyone else. The clicking of her heels gently reinforced her briefly shaken confidence. She had taken the project this far. She had rebuilt Shepard, bone by bone, muscle by muscles, inch by agonising inch. She had brought him back from the dead. It was her hard work. It was her determination. Who cared if some jealous subordinate hated her? She was only doing her job. She was ensuring humanity's survival.

But she had almost failed. The abrupt and jarring thought shot through her body and Miranda stumbled in her usually strong and sure gait. Her legs grew unbearably weak and her knees trembled beneath her, struggling to hold her suddenly exhausted body up. Her right arm shot out and her hand firmly pressed into the wall as she doubled over. Her chest was tight and her shoulders shook with each stubborn breath. She had almost failed.

"Damn it." She whispered once and wiped her face with her free hand. Two long and hard years of work had come a hair's breadth from exploding in her face. The choked words, the painful spasms, his fearful and confused eyes darting around the room… everything she had worked for had started to crumble right before her eyes. Shepard had almost died right there, in front of her.

With one tired sigh, Miranda turned and leaned her back against the cold metal wall. Her legs still trembled beneath her as she took several deep breaths to calm herself again. But her body refused to stop shaking. Every breath fought her, her chest and shoulders shuddering as each breath came in halting gasps. She shut her eyes and let her head fall backwards to rest on the wall. She just couldn't stop shaking. She slowly sank to the floor, her bottom hitting the cold metal with a soft thump.

"Pull it together." The chastising words rang hollow as she continued to tremble even as she bent forward and wrapped her arms around her thighs just under her knees. She hadn't failed, Shepard was still alive and the Lazarus Project was going strongly despite the hiccup. There was no reason to fall to pieces now. The job was almost done. "Come on, pull it together!"

But her body refused to listen. Still shaking, she buried her head between her knees and sighed. She might not have failed, but she couldn't get Shepard's face out of her head, his frantic eyes briefly shining before darkening with confusion. Though she refused to admit it to herself, those few moments of frightful panic had shocked her.

So the stoic and composed "ice queen" sat huddled on the floor in the secluded corridor and trembled. The human face of a man refusing to disappear and fade. He wasn't just a project anymore, but a hurt and confused man who had just woken from a nightmare. She didn't know how to handle that.


	3. A Demanding Two Years

"Almost there." Miranda slumped back into her seat, stretching her arms above her head, and sighing. Two years of mind numbing work and constant, tedious anxiety left her drained. Still, stretching her aching muscles and grunting as several loud and coarse cracks snapped down her spine, she smiled. She had been given the impossible and she had soundly stomped that impossibility into the dirt. Granted, she was sore, she was tired, and she really needed a vacation... not that the last one was ever going to happen, but she had succeeded. He was still alive.

Yawning, Miranda wiped her hands across her face and leaned back over her desk, settling on crossed arms. She stared blankly at the monitor for a few moments, letting her mind flit about without any real purpose. The last two years, her sister, her father, Jacob, Cerberus… her life swirled inside her head, images and memories bobbing to the surface before quickly sinking. Brief smiles, fleeting anger, or bitter pangs of sorrow flashed at each memory. They lasted only a moment before vanishing with each memory. She could not sustain any of those emotions. She was numb, surprisingly empty. She shivered before quickly shaking her head at the thought. The whirlpool stilled and her mind calmed. Taking one deep breath, she turned back to the reports on her monitor and pushed the memories aside. She started to read again.

For long minutes she sat there, making small notes and corrections as she read. Data and observations from the last few months flashed before her calm gaze and her quick mind dissected and re-dissected every anomaly: spikes in temperature, small fluctuations in implants, the blaring explosion of instability when Shepard had briefly woken. As she read the various notes and read-outs of that final incident, she remembered. She saw his wild and confused eyes again and she froze, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

His panicked gaze blazed in her memory and her eyes widened as the once clear observations and notes jumbled together in a mess of letters. She shook her head, trying to dispel the memory, and tried to read again. But the words blurred together with the memory of his raspy breath shuddering in the air between them and his hand twitching feebly. With a growl she shook her head again, blinked in exhaustion, rubbed her eyes, took one deep breath, and dove back into the final few reports one last time.

"Ash." She heard his broken and hurt voice again after his one last desperate lunge to simply move his body. She closed her eyes tightly, shoving and kicking at the memory. She could not get it out of her head. It scared her. Why would her emotions roil with one simple moment? Again Shepard's trembling body flashed in her mind, those damnable eyes gazing at her with such wonder before being smothered in agony and confusion. She felt the unfamiliar sting of tears burn her eyes and gasped. With a grunt of disgust she kicked away from the desk and shot to her feet.

"Stupid!" She grumbled. She paced back and forth as she closed her eyes and shoved at the memory and emotions with all her might. He was just her job. That was all. That was why she was so worried. "Pull it together, Miranda."

She muttered to herself and plopped down on the nearby bunk. She had poured two years of her life into Shepard; of course she would get so stressed. It was that simple. She took several calming breaths as she slowly and rationally explained her own anxiety away. The memory faded slightly with each breath and soon her mind was calm and centred once more. It really was nothing more than that: two years spent hovering over his body and toiling to bring him back, to do the impossible.

She sighed again. She had taken a broken and burnt mass of flesh and made it whole, made it human. Bone after bone, muscle after muscle, and his smooth skin… she had rebuilt him. She smiled at the first moment when the mass of flesh finally transformed into the wonderful smooth curves of a human body. Despite the scars and army of implants, she had marvelled at the beauty of Shepard's body as it slowly healed… his fair skin damp with sweat, his muscles twitching under the artificial stimulation, and the slow, methodical swelling of his stomach and chest with each breath. She remembered the velvety smoothness of his skin under her diligent fingers during the various tests, the hard lines of his chest, the rounded firmness of his calves, the soft plumpness of his lips…

Her face slackened in a blissful and tiny smirk as a new warmth swelled in her body as her fingers relived the sensations. She closed her eyes and inhaled, loosing herself in the memory. A light moan escaped her lips. Her eyes shot open with a strangled cry.

"What the hell was that?" she panted heavily, her eyes wide as she stared dumbly at the floor. She had just lost herself in that memory. She had moaned. "O god. " She groaned, rubbed her hands across her face, and shook her head in embarrassment and shame. First she couldn't shake the memory and now she was moaning. Still shaking her head at girlish tangent and her apparent frustration, Miranda stood and stretched. The job had demanded and drained her more than she thought if she was moaning over that. She had moaned… she rolled her shoulders and chuckled, her cheeks blushing a slight pink before finally admitting "I desperately need a vacation."


	4. Awakening

"Wake up, Commander" a faint, explosive thump cut through the silence. "Shepard, do you hear me? Get out of that bad now; this facility is under attack."

Slowly, the darkness receded as Shepard blinked several times through the fog of sleep. His face flared with pain and he quickly rubbed his sore jaw. Still dazed, his eyes squinted in confusion as he lay there wondering.

"Shepard, your scars aren't healed, but I need you to get moving." As he listened, Shepard sat up. He winced in pain and grabbed his ribs as another flash of pain flared in his body. "This facility is under attack."

As the voice repeated the warning, a ball of flames exploded on the other side of the nearby window. He could see the heated trails of bullets the concussion of continued explosions. Coming slowly to his senses, Shepard swung around and gave a quick glance around to the rather bright lab. It was empty.

"There's a pistol in the locker on the other side of the room." The voice continued and Shepard slowly started to lift and push himself off the bed. Too slowly it seemed, "Hurry."

He grunted when he finally hit his feet and stood still, gaining his bearings.

"Grab the pistol and the armour from the locker." He remained motionless for a moment, his thoughts swirling in his head. He was dead. He died. He remember those last few moments, the intense cold freezing his body and then the intense heat that blessedly burned his sorrow to ash. He had died. So where the hell was he? "You don't have time to wait around, Shepard! Grab your weapon and armour!"

He sighed and shook his head at the incessant female voice. Up and moving and so confused… and she was yelling at him. Wonderful, he wakes up and he is being screamed orders. "It must be hell." He grimly thought before shrugging his shoulders and walking over to the nearby locker. He opened it and smirked at the N7 armour. He had died and he was still putting on this armour. Definitely hell. Sighing again, he quickly pulled it out and started to don the mostly familiar uniform, grunting as his pain rolled through his stiff limbs. When it was finally on he took one glance at the armour now fitting his body and smiled just a bit. It might have reminded him of everything he lost, but it still felt good to have the N7 gleaming on his chest.

Finished with his brief moment of nostalgia, Shepard turned back to the locker and pick up the pistol. With deft familiarity, he ran through his weapon check quickly.

"This pistol doesn't have a thermal clip." He spoke out loud, though he wasn't sure if the woman could hear him.

"It's a med bay." The voice sounded shocked for brief moment, then irritated at having to explain the oversight. He wasn't sure if she was irritated at him or at someone else. And as the weird tangent bubbled in his mind, he walked towards the door, listening to the instructions from that commanding voice and wondered: what the hell was going on and who was the woman behind that damnable voice?

"Damn it!" Miranda swore and ducked behind the console, her pistol grasped in her hands. She winced as sparks showered over her, stinging her exposed skin. She was going to kill Wilson. She should have guessed the bastard would betray them. She knew he wasn't to be trusted. But first, she had to get out of there, which wasn't going to be too hard.

She listened to the spray of gunfire and quickly ran through her weapon's check again. Then, with a quick tilt of her head, she swiftly glanced over the top of the ruined console and ducked back down. She wasn't sure, but there were at least two armed mechs just inside the door and slowly marching forward. And if she had to guess, at least two more hovering in the hall just behind them. A swift tactical strike and it would be over. She might not risk overload on the first two, she didn't fancy getting anymore singed than she already was, but still it was too easy. She felt insulted.

"Here we go." She took one steady breath and concentrated, feeling the familiar crawl of energy building within her body. Then she shot out from cover. The two mechs immediately converged on her, weapons swivelling over. But they were far too slow. With one low grunt, Miranda thrust out her arm and the air around one mech twisted. Miranda quickly spun around and lifted her other arm, pistol in hand, as a whirring jolt erupted from the mech as it convulsed, its legs sheering away from its body and its arms breaking under the stress. With three swift squeezes, the second mech lurched backwards as two rounds punched through its chest and the third sliced through its thin waist, severing the mech in two. The mechs clattered to the ground in pieces.

"Easy." She smirked as she dashed to the wall and pulled up tight against it. She switched the gun to her left hand, freeing her right hand to tinker with her omni-tool and ready the overload. She switched the gun back to her right hand when she finished and leaned out slightly to give her left arm the necessary room to activate the tech. But no mechs rushed through the door as she shimmied along the wall and came to the door. She paused for a few seconds, listening for the faint clicks and buzzing of mechanical bodies, but there was nothing. Listening a few moments longer, she finally swung around into the face of the doorway, her pistol held to the right and her omni-tool to the left. The short corridor was empty.

"Only two?" her face twisted in disgust. She brought her hands together, holding the pistol ready in front of her and exhaled angrily. She was deeply insulted. She shook her head free of the childish tangent and rushed back into the room to glance down at the communications relay. She sighed at the still spattering wires and the gaping holes punched into the fragile system. It was useless; the comm was dead. Her chest tightened and her stomach knotted briefly. Shepard was alone. Her breathing grew shallow. She almost growled at her reaction.

"He'll be alright." She clenched her teeth and took several deep breaths. She was getting annoyed with herself. Shepard was her project, nothing more than that. No need to panic. Hell, he was a Spectre. He killed a bloody Reaper. There was no reason for her to get worried! He was a big boy and he could take care of himself! She pummelled herself over her girlish reactions before taking a few seconds to calm her. There was no need to lose control, even if it was irritating. Finally, with a simple nod, she turned and walked from the room. Shepard could take care of himself. All she had to do was get to the shuttle, make sure it was ready, and then go get him. Simple.

So with grim and steady determination, Miranda readied her firearm and marched out of the room and down the hall. The clicking of her heels echoed in the corridor as she purposefully strode down the corridor to the door. The first part of her plan was easy. She was already close to the shuttle. One last corridor and she would be in the shuttle bay. It was really easy. She reached the end of the corridor and the door hissed open. Her eyes widened and she leapt off to the side and flattened herself against the wall as a hail of rounds tore through the air. Maybe not that easy; a dozen mechs, including one heavy mech crowded the final corridor. They continued to fire, the mechs cycling in short bursts after the initial failed flurry.

Miranda almost smiled. She didn't feel so insulted anymore. Still, it was only one heavy mech. She expected at least two. With a quick flick of her fingers she readied her omni-tool, firmly gripped her pistol, and felt the energy wash over her as her biotic implants flared to life.

"Here we go." She murmured before launching across the precipice and setting her tech off in the middle of the mech battle lines. The pleasing sounds of explosions and electronic squeals filled the air.


	5. A Hard's Day Work

She leaned out of cover and flung the bundled energy from her outstretched arm. The air around the heavy mech warped and the metal armour groaned under the enormous strain of her biotics. Buckling and unstable, the heavy mech wobbled on its legs unsteadily. With one quick twist, Miranda bolted from cover and fired two rounds. She was precise. One tore through its exposed optics and the second tore through the bundle of exposed wires just below the twisted plating of its chest. The mech collapsed to its knees and she quickly threw herself back into cover as the familiar crackling surge sounded within the mech. With a screeching grind, the heavy mech exploded in an intense ball of energy and metallic scrap. Miranda smirked at the rattling clamour of metal and circuitry pelting the floor and walls.

She leaned against the wall, her black flat on the warmed steel. She took a few straggling seconds to refocus her powers as the metal rained down in the corridor. Once the clamour mostly faded she pushed herself straight, readied her pistol, and walked through the doors. The sizzling mounds of mechs littered the corridor, but Miranda still glided through the smoking wreckage with easy grace. She ignored the odd crackle and burst of flame and wound her way towards the far door. The battle had taken a few minutes, ten, at most. She would easily beat Wilson to the hangar, to the shuttle, and she would deal with the traitorous bastard. She came to the door and stopped.

She made one last check of her omni tool, ensuring that her techs were set and ready. With fuming determination, and a slight scowl, she opened the door to the hangar and slid into cover behind the frame. She poked her head out cautiously and carefully surveyed the large room. She squinted in suspicion when she saw no roaming mechs and heard no faint evidence of mech activity at all. There was nothing. It didn't make sense. Why weren't there a patrol of mechs in the hangar? She took a few seconds to watch the seemingly empty room before taking a steadying, calming breath and slowly sliding out of cover.

She raised her pistol in both hands and took the first step into the hangar. Her eyes roamed over the room, the gun following her gaze. Still, she didn't see a single mech. She cautiously walked forward, casting her gaze about and turning to cover her rear every few steps. But nothing was there and Miranda inched closer to the nearby ramp. It still made no sense to her. Not a single mech stood guard. Either Shepard was causing more havoc than Wilson had planned or Wilson simply hadn't planned. Miranda shook her head in disgust as she ascended the ramp and the door to the shuttle came into view. She quickly turned to face the other direction. The room on the far side looked empty, but she finally saw two mechs curled tightly on the walkway. Two deactivated mechs to guard the shuttle… Wilson was an idiot.

Miranda thought of squeezing two quick rounds into the currently harmless mechs, but quickly dismissed the notion. No need to draw attention to herself. If they suddenly activated, they were easy enough to dispatch. But until then it was better to avoid alerting any nearby mechs to her presence, as unlikely as it seemed. And Shepard could always handle them if they stumbled into him. She had to worry about the shuttle first, make sure it was clear of any tampering. Or else it wouldn't matter if Shepard got to her safely.

So with a reluctant twist she sped down the walkway, pistol still at the ready. At the first door, she flattened against the wall, double checked her techs and weapon, and opened the door. She scanned the corridor.

"Damn." There were another few deactivated mechs. Maybe Wilson wasn't so stupid after all. Again she paused for a moment and weighed her options. She hated leaving mechs at her back, but she needed to get to the shuttle quickly. She decided to leave them be again and ran past to the next door. She took cover and opened the second door. As it door opened she glanced around the dock, then dashed inside when she saw nothing. But her hopes that it was that easy were silenced as the doors quickly shut behind her and the bleeping of the security lock made her grimace. And as the electronic whine and low hum rumbled in the air, she hissed in anger. Wilson wasn't an idiot. There was a heavy mech guarding the shuttle.

She quickly activated her tech and she hurled overload at the hulking mech before it got too close to the shuttle. The mechs shields flashed and collapsed under the bolt of energy. She was then diving under a spray of gunfire and Miranda raised her pistol and fired as she twisted along the ground. Several rounds bounced harmlessly off the armoured plating, but two rounds sliced through the joint on its left arm. She rose to her knees and focused her energy, then cursed. The mech had pulled in tight to the shuttle. If she threw anything at it, she would hit the shuttle. She dove under another hail of bullets.

"Damn!" she grunted in pain as several rounds ricocheted off her shields. They might not have penetrated, but she still grimaced at the intense impacts. She would be bruised. She fired off three quick rounds as she vaulted to one knee. Two more harmless shots off the armour, but the third punched into the unprotected bundle of wires in the neck. The mech reeled for a brief second, but it was enough. Miranda shot to her feet and sprinted towards it. She sucked in a surprised breath as it lifted its arm and fired a rocket. Luckily, the mech had not regained its balance completely and she was able to lean just enough so that it screamed past her right ear. She gasped as intense heat scorched the side of her face and exhaled gratefully when the shields held and the heat passed. She then launched herself the remaining few metres and crashed into the mech. It barely stumbled at the collision of her comparatively insignificant weight, but again it was enough for her. She found a perch on the mech, her toes balanced on the slightest of ledges on its frame, and she shoved the pistol into the new hole in the mech's throat, pointing down into its chest. She fired.

The mech shuddered with each round then whined one last time as it slumped to the ground. Miranda vaulted off the heavy mech as it fell, but did not manage it with the grace she was accustomed to. Her heel hit the ground first, her leg flared with pain, and she stumbled. She pressed her hand over the pain, the area grazed by one of the mech's rounds, and straightened. She quickly shook her leg and the pain faded. It was nothing. She was stronger than that. Still, it was times like these she questioned her choice to wear heels. Still, she managed.

The fleeting and rather silly thought was quickly banished. She had work to do. She rushed over to the shuttle, activated her omni-tool, and began a security sweep of the vehicle. She scanned the shuttle, walking up and down its length murmuring with each read-out. It took long minutes, but eventually she nodded her head in satisfaction. The shuttle was clean. Though there was one life sign within the vehicle. Hopefully the person was alive and helpful.

"I know you're in there." She patched herself into the comm and calmly spoke. "Open the door." For several moments, she waited. The door didn't open. "Open the door or I open it for you!"

Again the door didn't open. She exhaled in frustration and walked up to the shuttle door. She punched in the sequence on her omni-tool and, with a satisfying beep, the door slid open. Two quick rounds buzzed her head. She gasped and jumped to the side, her arm flashing up and an instinctive burst of energy leapt from her outstretched fingers, and then she flattened herself against the hull of the shuttle. A cry of pain erupted from within and then the soft thud of a body crumpling to the floor. She cautiously poked her head back into the shuttle. A man was huddled on the floor, twitching from the agony of the warp she had unleashed. He was still breathing; he was still conscious. He looked up at her with fear in his eyes.

"Do you work for Wilson?" she levelled the gun at his head, her icy voice ringing with intent. He merely shook his head, unable to speak. "Do. You. Work. For. Wilson." She slowly enunciated each word.

"No, ma'am." The trembling man finally whispered. "I just… I didn't… I…"

She only shook her head at his faltering. He clearly wasn't battle material if something so mundane shook him. Still, it would be better if he could fly the ship. So she knelt down beside him and laid her hand on his shoulder.

"Easy. " Her voice was calm and steady. He relaxed at her touch. "Can you pilot this shuttle." He nodded and almost sighed in relief. "All I need is for you to fly the ship when I give the order. Can you do that?" 

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded again and sat up. He took a few calming breaths then looked up at her, his brown eyes steeling themselves slowly. "Sorry, ma'am."

"Just pull yourself together and get this shuttle ready to launch." She stood up, turned to the door, and stepped out. She stopped and quickly tapped in another sequence into her omni-tool, locking the shuttle down. "And don't think to betray me." She let the obvious threat hang in the air.

She ignored his reply, not even seeing his legs trembling beneath him as he saluted. She marched towards the door. She needed to get Shepard and get the hell off the station. She wouldn't miss it. She stopped at the door and started to raise her arm to unlock the door. But she didn't have to, it opened. Her mouth opened in a snarl.

"Miranda," his voice shook in surprise and fear "But, you were…"

Miranda raised the pistol to his chest and fired one round. Wilson crumpled to the floor.

"Dead?" She glared at his corpse, her chest tight and her anger roiling within her.


	6. Rumblings

"What the hell are you doing?" Jacob's eyes were wide as he ran over and stood over the dead Wilson.

"My job." Miranda responded, her voice terse with the anger roiling within her. "Wilson betrayed us all." She ignored the rest of Jacob's fleeting panic and calmly turned her gaze towards the pistol pointed at her head. Her breath quickened and her mouth went dry for the briefest moments as she gazed directly into Shepard's eyes. She silently cursed the foolish reaction and quickly quelled the rising emotions. It wasn't like her. She didn't react this way… ever.

"You should have taken him alive. See what he knew." Shepard's voice was calm and sure, his pistol still levelled at her head. Again her emotions bubbled up briefly and again Miranda silently cursed herself. It was getting ridiculous. She was not a silly girl with a crush! She just wasn't!

"Too risky." Despite the calm words, Miranda struggled to quash the irritating foolishness swirling within. Luckily for her, her face never betrayed her inner frustration. "I've put too much time and effort bringing you back to life to let you get killed now."

"You really think Wilson's capable of that?" Jacob turned from Wilson and looked at Miranda. She simply looked back for a second before dropping her gaze to the dead traitor at their feet.

"Not anymore." She replied calmly.

"Even if you're sure," Shepard still kept his pistol aimed at her, his voice clearly ringing with disapproval "did he deserve that welcome?"

"He sabotaged the security systems, killed my staff, and would have killed us." She managed to keep her irritation towards Shepard's questioning and his tone at bay. It didn't help that she had to squash the twittering lightness in her heart when she looked into sure and steady gaze.

"You sure about that Miranda? We've known Wilson for years." Jacob chimed in. "What if you're wrong?"

"I'm never wrong." Her anger flared to life and she struggled to keep it from erupting. She had saved his life, all their lives. And they were both questioning her. Her voice remained calm, though her eyes flashed as she looked at Jacob. "I thought you'd have learned that by now, Jacob." The tense standoff continued, Shepard's pistol holding steady as Miranda glared at Jacob. After several long moments, Shepard finally sighed.

"If you say so." Shepard straightened up and holstered his pistol. Miranda calmly returned her gaze to him. He calmly gazed back. "What's our next step?"

"We get on the shuttle and go." Her irritation and anger faded a bit under his gaze. "My boss wants to speak to you."

"You mean the Illusive Man?" Shepard's eyes narrowed slightly. "I know who you work for."

"Ah, Jacob." Miranda shook her head and looked back to Jacob. "I should've known your conscience would get the better of you."

"Lying to the commander isn't the way to get him to join our cause." Jacob replied.

"Well, since we're getting everything out in the open," Miranda looked back to Shepard "is there anything else you want to ask before we go, Commander?"

Shepard stared at her. For long moments he said nothing. He simply stared right into her eyes. She could see the questions bursting to come out, the distrust, the intense hatred. He hated her. Her chest tightened at the revelation. He hated her. He didn't even know her. She silently cursed herself again. What did she care? He didn't know her and she didn't know him. He was simply her project, her successful project. As Miranda quelled her rising emotions once more, Shepard only stared. Then something in his eyes flashed and the questions were gone.

"I've had enough of this station to last a lifetime." He shook his head, his voice weighted and tired.

"Or two in your case. Come on." Miranda turned towards the shuttle, puzzled by the weariness in his voice.

He stared at her as she turned and walked towards the shuttle. He had so many questions, but he just couldn't ask them. He was alive. It wasn't hell, it wasn't a dream. He was alive. And they had brought him back. He seethed at that revelation. The bastards that had killed nearly his entire troop at Akuze, murdered Admiral Kahoku, and almost unleashed a plague of Rachni on the galaxy… Cerberus had brought him back. He hated that truth.

He followed Miranda to the shuttle, pausing briefly to gaze into her eyes one last time, and then pulled himself into the darkened pod. He wanted to ask her so many questions, but she was Cerberus. He didn't want to hear her answers. He wouldn't like most of them and the rest he couldn't trust. With a tired sigh, Shepard slid into the seat, leaned back, and turned his gaze towards the window. He was alive and it gnawed at him. He was supposed to be dead.

His memory haunted him. Everything he lost returned and he lost himself in the haze. He barely noticed as the two Cerberus agents climbed aboard, sat opposite of him, and the shuttle lurched into flight. He had so many questions, but none of them really mattered. He was still alive, his troop was wasn't. He was still alive, Kahoku was still dead. He was still alive and she wasn't. Cerberus had only brought him back. It hurt.

He hoped and he prayed. It couldn't be real. It had to be some sick dream, it had to be. So he sat and stared out the window... at nothing. Ash's face was the only thing he saw as the metal interior of the station gave away to the infinite blackness of space. He hated being alive.

She stared at Shepard as he mutely gazed out the window. He hadn't spoken since they boarded the shuttle. He had simply sat down and looked out at the blackness of space. His face was devoid of expression, of emotion. She began to wonder if the project had been a success. She decided to finally press the issue.

"Before you meet with the Illusive Man, we need to ask a few questions to evaluate your condition." She broke the silence. Shepard remained still, gazing out the window.

"Come on, Miranda. More tests?" Jacob sighed with incredulity. "Shepard took down those mechs without any trouble. That has to be good enough."

"It's been two years since the attack. The Illusive Man needs to know that Shepard's personality and memories are intact." She kept a hold at the rising irritation at being questioned again. She looked at Jacob, her mouth drawn in a tight, stern line before speaking. "Ask the questions."

"Did you say two years?" Shepard's surprised voice shook Miranda from her irritated glare. She looked back over to find Shepard sitting forward and staring at her and Jacob. "I've been gone that long?"

"Two years and twelve days." Jacob quickly responded. "And you were on an operating table for most of it."

Shepard shook his head at the newest revelation and sat back and ran his hand over his face. Miranda watched for a few moments, letting Shepard absorb the shocking news. Once he seemed to calm down, Miranda leaned forward.

"The sooner we start, the sooner we can be done." She calmly stated. Shepard merely returned her gaze for a second before nodding. She noticed the spark returning to his eyes. "Start with personal history."

With the flick of his flingers, Jacob activated his omni-tool and pulled up Shepard's information. Quickly glancing through it he began.

"It says here that you served on Akuze." Jacob hissed under his breath as he read the reports. He didn't notice Miranda's prodding elbow. "That must have been rough."

Miranda groaned.

"Rough." Shepard grunted and shook his head. Through clenched teeth he hoarsely answered. "Watching as your friends dissolve in steaming chunks while others scream as they are pulled under… yeah, that's just rough." He sneered then ground his teeth together and inhaled deeply. "Let's not forget to mention that it was you people that fed my crew to that Thrasher Maw. And you ask if it was rough?" Shepard glared at the two agents, the muscles in his jaw rippling as he continued to grind his teeth.

Jacob only blinked in response, surprised at the vehemence of Shepard's answer. Miranda's mind quickly scrambled to recover the situation, flitting through her memories of Shepard's file. Leave it to Jacob to pick something explosive to ask. At least she wasn't worried about Shepard as much given the reaction he had exhibited, but it was still a stupid question to ask at the time. Still, despite the reassuring reaction, she had to make sure. So she tried one last question.

"During your attempts to stop Saren, you took part in a mission on Virmire deal …" Miranda began to ask about the Krogan threat and the revelations on the indoctrination and Sovereign, but she never got a chance to finish.

"We are not going to talk about Virmire." Shepard punched the seat and Miranda jumped slightly. His eyes were burning fiercely and he was breathing heavily. He glared at her. "Do you understand?" the threat rang clearly in the shuttle and Miranda only nodded once.

Shepard grunted one last time before violently throwing himself back. He crossed his arms over his chest, gave one last burning glance at her, and turned his gaze back to the stars. Miranda stared at Shepard, surprised at his reaction. She gave one quick glance to Jacob, but he only shrugged in response. So she quickly raised her arm, turned on her omni-tool, pulled up the file on that mission, and reread it. He had infiltrated the base, discovered the second beacon, set the bomb, and... he had left behind one of his crew to man the bomb. Ashley Williams had died that day. She remembered the fading whisper and she winced at her own stupidity as the pieces fell together. She had berated Jacob for his poor choice in a question, but she had stumbled onto a far worse memory. He had loved her and she was dead. She looked back to Shepard and sighed as tears glinted in his eyes. Her heart lurched. With irritation, at both her girlish reactions and her own stupidity, she silently cursed herself yet again.


	7. A Little Girl Buried

She was getting extremely annoyed with herself. Every time she looked at Shepard her heart would flutter. It was so stupid. She wasn't some little girl gushing over a knight in shining armour. They didn't exist. She learned that a long time ago.

"Stupid." She angrily smashed the console in front of her. She was used to being in control, collected. And every time she looked into his damnable eyes that control faltered and she struggled to keep from falling apart. She didn't need it. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

Miranda went back to work, cleaning up several reports and logging notes on the incident with Wilson into the terminal. Her fingers were a blur as she tried to push Shepard from her mind. She didn't need a knight in shining armour. When she learned that the armour was always dented, rusted, and spattered with blood she gave up that girlish dream. She took care of herself now. She didn't need anyone. Hell, she didn't want anyone!

She shook her head as she filed another report and moved to the next. She had only ever trusted one other person in her life. Other than that, she had taken care of herself for twenty years. She had done just fine by herself. It never even crossed her mind to settle down with anyone. She just could not imagine it. She continued to work through the reports and notes, her mind split between the task at hand and her attempts to shove everything else from her mind. It didn't work.

Her hands paused over the terminal as she read the brief notation she had just written. The images swirled in her mind: Shepard's angry glare, his heated words, the slamming of his fist into metal, and his tears. Her heart lurched again at the memory of his tears glinting in the dim light as he stared out into space. It hurt. Why the hell did it hurt?

"Damn it." She stopped typing and leaned over the console, her weight balanced on her arms. She took several long breaths and concentrated. He was her project. She didn't know him. She didn't want to know him. There was nothing there. She took several more deep breaths and slowly the emotions calmed. It was ridiculous. Determined and resolute, she quieted the fawning little girl inside her. She was supposed to be long dead, killed all those long years ago. Why was she coming to life now? Shepard was nothing more than a job. That was it. And with that, she slowly pushed Shepard and her silly emotions away and buried them. That little girl should have stayed dead.

She went back to her work. Several minutes passed as she filed each separate report, her emotions finally stilled. Then her terminal flashed briefly and a brief message appeared. She read it quickly. It didn't surprise her. She had known the situation from the beginning. Still, it rankled that her years of service didn't mean that much at the time. But she would accept it as she always did. She was a professional, even if she still had her pride. She closed out the message and returned to her final report. She didn't look up when the door hissed open at the end of the room.

"The Illusive Man is very impressed with you." She worked on her reports, not looking up as Shepard's methodical footfalls approached. Though calm, her words were laced with agitation. "I'm eager to see if you can live up to his expectations on this mission."

"What's the matter Lawson?" Shepard swallowed his initial angry retort. Even though he had to work with Cerberus, he wasn't happy about it. But he didn't fare any better with his new retort; his response was far more mocking than he intended. "Worried you're not his favourite anymore?"

"I've proven my value to the Illusive Man." Miranda tried her best not to clench her teeth in anger as she straightened and looked right at Shepard. The jibe hit too close to home. "Let's hope you're able to do the same."

"We have to work together here." Shepard balked at the last remark. Not only could he live without it, but he didn't want to prove himself to Cerberus. Even knowing that he was partly to blame, he couldn't help himself with his remarks "Your attitude isn't helping anything."

"I have the utmost respect for your abilities, Shepard. It's your motivations that concern me." She was irritated. First he mocked her then he acted as if it was all her fault. Despite that, she managed to maintain a calm demeanour and respond simply. "I believe in what Cerberus stands for. Only time will tell if you prove to be an asset or a liability to our cause."

Shepard stood silent for a few moments. He wanted to scream back that he didn't give a damn about their cause and that he detested Cerberus. But he knew he had to keep his head. He had a mission. And she was going to be there regardless of his desire. Best he didn't give her a reason to shoot him in the back. So with a few calming breaths, he tried to start over.

"What can you tell me about this colony we're going to?" With a sigh he managed to keep his tongue under control.

"Freedom's Progress?" Miranda noted the attempt by Shepard to reign in the conversation. "It's a typical human settlement in the Terminus Systems. They had a small military force for protection supplemented by mechs and security drones. Average in almost every way, really." She gave the slightest of shrugs. "Completely unremarkable… until the disappearance."

"Any thoughts on what we might run into there?"

"A lot of empty buildings and one giant mystery." Miranda noticed Shepard bristling at her curt reply. She simply stood still and watched as he closed his eyes and took several more calming breaths. He didn't seem to care for her answers. Eventually he shook his head.

"Tell me a little bit about yourself." He changed the subject when spoke again, the weariness she had heard earlier evident once again in his voice.

"Worried about my qualifications?" Miranda's voice grew strained again. Not only was she slightly irritated by the abrupt change, but the question pricked at the fawning little girl that she was trying to smother. It was not welcome. "I can crush a mech with my biotics or shoot its head off at one hundred yards. Take your pick." Her last remark came out as a challenge.

"I was trying to get to know you as a human being." He almost raised his hands to draw down his face in exasperation. Who knew such a commanding voice belonged to such an irritating woman.

"I'm not looking for a friend, Shepard." her voice was calm again. "Stay focused on the mission."

Shepard struggled to maintain his composure. He was alive, but it seems he was right with his initial observations when he first woke. He was in Hell. This woman had to be a demon. He gave up.

"It's obvious you're not interested in talking." He sighed.

"We've got an assignment." Miranda looked at him, her eyes flashing briefly before she bent back over the terminal and went back to her final report. Her voice grew tense and dismissive. "We can talk about it or we can do it."

Shepard only raised his hands in defeat and, with one last disgusted sigh, he turned and walked away. She didn't look up as he left. That fawning little girl was finally quiet. So she worked. Her fingers were a blur as she typed in the last of her notes. Everything was back to normal. She finished her notes, filed the report, and shut down the terminal. With a sigh she looked up to see Shepard and Jacob talking. She simply gazed at the two for a few minutes then looked back down. The little girl had stayed quiet.

She stared at the blank screen of the terminal.


	8. Memories and Shattered Hopes

Her smile tormented him. The mischief sparkling in her eyes, the playful silliness twisting her lips, and the confident certainty setting her pose… he remembered taking the picture. He smiled.

He was just having fun, burning a few hours after duty and taking a few shots for mementos. He was a sentimental sort. He grinned at the latest picture: Liara's hands clapped over her mouth, standing over Kaidan covered in food from her upended tray. Kaidan's stoic sigh was captured perfectly. Shepard shook his head and laughed. That laugh was cut short as he grunted in surprise from running into something. The quick and loud retort made him wince, though it also made his heart flutter.

"Hey, watch it!" Ashley spun to face him, her face scrunched with annoyance. Her expression quickly softened, however, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Should have known it was you, Skipper."

"O really?" he couldn't help but smile in return. "And why would that be, Chief."

"Rough, clumsy…" her eyes squinted slightly as she pulled closer to him and whispered, "And I know you want to tackle me and rip all my clothes off….. Sir."

Shepard was silent for a moment, struck still by Ashley's playful answer. He could feel her breath glide across his skin and he shivered briefly before finally smiling and taking one step forward, trapping Ashley between the nearby bulkhead and his body, one hand pressed against the wall and the other holding the camera loosely.

"And just what would you do," he leaned in, his lips almost touching her ear and whispered lightly, "If I did just that."

She gave no answer and he chuckled into her ear before leaning back to gaze into her eyes. She gazed up at him, eyes burning with desire, and he slowly leaned in.

"Maybe we should find out…" his lips drew closer to hers and she trembled slightly in anticipation. He could feel her hot breath wash over his lips. He was finally going to kiss her. He was finally going to taste those wondrous lips.

"Commander, we have an incoming message." the intercom blared loudly above their heads. Shepard closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He silently cursed the horrid timing. He wanted her so badly. But he sighed again, gave one lingering glance at Ashley, then reluctantly pulled away.

"I'll take it in the comm room, Joker." He sighed and then smiled one last time at Ash, who took one deep steadying breath, before turning towards the nearby stairs to the command deck. He took a few steps before noticing the camera still in his hands then smiled. He turned back around. "Hey, Ash."

"Skipper?" she turned in the elevator, a smile still on her lips and the passion and need burning in her eyes, her body poised to pounce. She wanted to rush over and wrap her arms around him. He grinned at his luck.

"Smile." A quick, intense flash lit the room. Ashley shook her head and Shepard only shrugged and laughed in reply. With knowing and hopeful smiles, they both turned from each other and went back to their duties.

He missed her. His fingers lightly brushed the smooth metal frame of the photograph as the memories swirled through his head. Tears burned his eyes.

He hadn't expected to find the picture. He had thought it lost, a piece of debris in the emptiness of space. But here she was, smiling that beautiful smile, that hungry passion beaming in her eyes… forever. This was all that he had left now. He had lost her. He had given her up. He had sacrificed his love... for duty.

He hit the desk in front of him and swore. He had lost everything. He had nothing left to live for, yet he still lived. He dropped his head into his hands and let the tears flow. He wasn't dead. It had finally and fully hit him. He wasn't dead. He was supposed to be dead, but he wasn't. He had held a tiny glimmer of hope that it was all still a dream. So he had played along, followed the script. He did his duty. And his hopes were dashed by the harsh, jagged edge of reality…

"Shepard? Is that…" her voice shattered his final illusion. His heart sank in his chest and he sighed as he finally accepted the bitter truth. With a hopeful disbelief and a slight wave of her hand, Tali shattered his last hope, "you're alive?"

He screamed inside.


	9. Things at First Unseen

Miranda was in her new quarters aboard the Normandy, sitting at her desk, chin in her hands as she leaned on her elbows. She was staring at the finished report on her terminal. Despite the mission being a success, and one with some unexpected benefits, something didn't feel right. Yes, Shepard had allowed the quarians to take Veetor back, but that it seemed to have built a small bond between the Migrant Fleet and Cerberus. And he even had succeeded in discovering the cause for the disappearance of human colonies. But something was wrong.

Something happened on Freedom's Colony but she wasn't entirely sure what…

_Shepard lowered the barrel of his pistol, his face impassive as the mech tumbled to the ground in a heap. She was impressed. Two years of rebuilding, two years of being dead, and Shepard was still as quick and efficient when he eliminated Saren and Sovereign. She wasn't entirely certain he was completely combat ready, but seeing him bolt into cover and bark orders before the first mech had even fully initialised had proven her wrong. He was good, damn good. She hadn't even known anything was wrong until the mechs had raised their weapons._

_Even in close combat he had shown himself fit and ready: the quick jump to clear the stairs, a clean and swift boot to the FENRIR mech as he spun and fired point blank at the LOKI mech. Jacob and she hadn't even had time to raise a pistol and take aim. She was completely impressed. She followed his lead up the stairs, gaining a new appreciation for the sheer ability of Shepard. And quite proud that there seemed to be no ill effects from the project._

_At his slight glance and nod, she pressed up against the wall of the next module. She could now hear the faint murmur of voices through the metal structure and nodded in return as she stood ready on one side of the door while Shepard raised his pistol and gave her one last glance. With a quick flick he opened the door and steadied his pistol in both hands. They quickly swept inside. A small group of quarians quickly leapt from their kneeling positions and raised their own weapons._

_"Stop right there!" one quarian advanced towards Shepard, rifle aimed squarely at Shepard's chest. Miranda tensed and readied her pistol._

_"Prazza," another quarian, female and vaguely familiar to Miranda, rushed in between the two groups, pushing the rifle aimed at Shepard's chest to the floor. "you said you'd let me handle this." The familiar quarian turned and her arm dropped slowly" Wait… Shepard?"_

_It clicked in Miranda's head and the familiar quarian suddenly had a name. Shepard briefly turned to her and waved his hand while lowering his own pistol. Miranda hesitated before she reluctantly followed suit._

_"I'm not taking any chances with Cerberus operatives!" the first quarian, Prazza, argued. He pressed forward but was blocked._

_"Put those weapons down!" the female quarian, Tali'Zorah nar Rayya… no, Miranda remembered vague intel on her… Tali'Zorah vas Neema now, faced Prazza and shouted before turning back to Shepard. "Shepard?" her voice grew faint, disbelief and hope both ringing clear with her words. "Is that… you're alive?"_

_Long moments passed, a din of silence as Shepard simply stood there and stared at Tali. Miranda squinted in slight confusion at the pause and gazed at the still back of Shepard._

_"Remember when I gave you that Geth data, Tali?" Shepard spoke calmly, but an eerie and distant tone echoed in his voice. It was as if something snapped, shattered… dispelled…_

Miranda closed her eyes and sighed. Everything had changed after that moment, after meeting Tali, an old crewmate. A friend. Shepard had retreated, his words and actions almost lifeless. Although he still pushed forward, fighting mechs and even deftly dealing with the crazed Veetor, he hadn't been the same. Shepard wasn't all there, his mind preoccupied with the dawning realisation that she should have seen coming. She should have been prepared. He hadn't believed it was real.

"Damn it." She cursed herself. She should have known that that very scenario might have popped up. It was her bloody job. But instead she had smugly basked in the apparent success of her project, revelling in doing the impossible yet again. She had completely missed all the signs. His body might have been repaired, his abilities in perfect condition… but Shepard's mental wellbeing was entirely different. "Damn it!"

Miranda stared at the terminal, the report's status flashing on the screen, waiting to be delivered to the Illusive Man. The report was no longer complete. Shepard had performed perfectly, the mission a complete success, but his fractured emotional state posed a dilemma. It was entirely possible that he would cope, grieve and rage and heal. Everything would be perfectly fine. But it was also entirely possible that the revelation could crush him; leave him the tattered remains of what he once was. It threatened the whole mission.

"Damn it." She really should have seen it coming. She was better than this. But it somehow had slipped past her. She was too smug in her own success. He had been right in front of her the entire time, the pain and confusion etched on his face. And she had missed it… or worse ignored it. Guilt briefly flooded her before quickly dissipating under her calm, driven attitude. It happened and she had to deal with it. It was her job.

She understood her duty. It was vital information. The Illusive Man needed to know. But she only stared. The blinking alert barely registering as a distant and faint pang echoed in her mind at the memory of the dull gaze of Shepard's tired eyes.

She understood her duty, but that didn't give her an answer. So she sat there, her chin still resting on her thumbs as her face pressed into her clasped hands, and stared at the blinking status message for her report.


	10. Out of Balance

"Damn it." She took cover as Shepard vaulted over the barrier and a plume of flame sizzled over her head and a spray of bullets pelted the barrier and Shepard's barrier. One of the vorchas give a brief yelp before an explosion rocked the floor. The flame thrower was out of commission. Miranda shot to her feet, her gun quickly jolting out before her. She didn't have to worry. Shepard snapped the vorcha's neck with a vicious back hand as pieces of the other vorcha rained around him. The vorcha crumpled to the ground. Before she could say or do anything else, Shepard tore around the corner and out of her sight. She swore again and tried to follow.

Another squeal erupted as Miranda vaulted over the barrier and around the corner. The squealing vorcha dropped lifeless over a barricade and she tried to quicken her pace. Shepard was nearly to the shutter control already. But so were quite a few vorcha. Shepard fired several rounds as he ran to the final few metres, each shot dropping a pitiful vorcha. But there were more right behind them. Miranda grunted as she cleared another barricade then threw her hand out, the energy rippling down her arm until it shot from her fingers into the narrow hall. Several vorcha screamed and the faint sound of snapping bones filled the air as her warp tore into the main group. Shepard never even noticed. He slammed his hand into the control panel and fired four more shots into the screaming vorcha, dropping the closest group to the door. It slammed shut.

But Shepard didn't even stop for a second. He had already turned and vaulted back over the first barricade and making for the second before Miranda spun around herself and followed as closely as she could. She was supposed to be fast and nimble, but Shepard was easily outpacing her and by the time she cleared the final barrier he had already sprinted out the door and across the room.

"Shepard!" she screamed at his back as he slammed into cover briefly. She spurred her legs on faster, desperate to catch up, but he quickly switched out his pistol and readied his shotgun. Just as she reached the doorway, he bolted from cover and fired directly into a vorcha's chest. It didn't even screech as it flew backwards with the force of the shot. Shepard ran forward, straight into a Krogan. She could hear him grunt as the Krogan snapped a quick jab into his chest and Shepard tumbled to the ground. She sprinted forward but a horde of vorcha suddenly poured into the room and opened fire. "Damn it!"

She dove behind cover as gunfire rang out over the huge room. She holstered her pistol and drew her sub-machine gun, ran a quick weapons check and focused her mind, her body beginning to hum with biotic energy. With a quick snap of her head, she glanced over her cover and surveyed the room before ducking back down. Roughly a dozen vorcha on the left and another half dozen on the right, not to mention the Krogan hovering over a recovering Shepard. She took a few calming breaths then leapt from behind cover, pulling the trigger immediately. Four vorcha fell screaming within the first few seconds as Miranda swept the left side of the room.

She fired in controlled bursts for a few moments, thinning the vorcha horde before she noticed the Krogan levelling his shotgun at Shepard. She ignored the vorcha and quickly turned towards Shepard and flung out her hand towards the Krogan and unleashed her power.

"Yes!" the word exploded from her lips as the armour buckled and the Krogan stumbled briefly, his shotgun flailing away from Shepard. Several rounds bounced off her shields. Miranda stumbled slightly from the force and grunted in surprise before ducking back behind cover. She cursed yet again and glanced out over the room. The Krogan had regained his composure, but Shepard was up one leg. It looked like she had done enough. She hoped she had done enough.

She darted out of cover and fired three controlled bursts into the nearby vorchas. Screams of pain greeted her as five vorcha quickly died. She rushed the remaining two, bowling into one with her shoulder and knocking it over before spinning and viciously slamming the metallic end of her gun into the other vorchas skull. It slunk to the ground without a noise as she continued spinning in a complete three hundred and sixty degrees. She aimed her gun and pulled the trigger. The vorcha she had knocked down hadn't even gotten to its knees before it died.

Miranda didn't stop to admire her handiwork. One ringing shotgun blast rang out and her heart lurched in her chest. She sprinted forward, darting around the various piles of junk and raised her weapon, prepared for an angry Krogan. She almost let an audible sigh escape her lips when she rounded the last corner to find Shepard pushing the still smoking barrels against the wounded but still struggling Krogan's chest. He pulled the trigger and the Krogan stopped struggling.

Without any hesitation, he quickly ran over and slammed the remaining shutter panel. It closed without incident. Miranda could only stare at Shepard as he calmly turned and walked away. His eyes told a different story. She blanched at the wild ferocity shining within, tempered only by a dark shadow. Shepard was losing control.


	11. On the Edge

He walked past the bloodied corpse of the Krogan and the scattered remains of over a dozen vorcha as he wound through the junk and towards the door. He could feel her eyes boring into his back. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and he clenched his teeth. He didn't like her all that much. She was always watching, always judging. She almost treated him like a child. He hated it. He hated being here. He hated that it was all real, painfully real. So he avoided her as best he could.

"Shepard." Miranda's voice cut through his thoughts and he almost stopped. There was a surprising note to her voice, a note he couldn't place. He only continued to walk. Her frustrated sigh wafted in the air behind him before he heard the clicking of her heels on the floor. He shrugged it off, trying his best to ignore her. The next voice, he couldn't ignore though.

"Get back here, Shepard." Garrus' voice was insistent. "They're coming in through the doors."

The comm link went silent and, without warning, Shepard broke into another sprint. He vaguely heard Miranda swearing as she broke into her own run behind him. He imagined the impatient and irritated scowl on her face. He smiled briefly, enjoying the moment. But he quickly regained his composure and readied for the skirmish ahead. He holstered his shotgun and drew his pistol. He toggled the settings on the pistol, switching to incendiary ammo and took the grip in both hands. He wasn't taking the chance with another damn Krogan. His chest still throbbed for the harsh blow that had floored him for a few seconds.

His ego wasn't faring too well either since he knew Miranda had saved his ass. One moment he was staring down a shotgun and the next the Krogan was stumbling around, his armour creaking. He winced just thinking about it.

He shook his head again as he vaulted the stairs. He heard a soft grunt fairly close behind him as Miranda bounded up the stairs. He slowed to a walk as he heard the unmistakeable voice of a Krogan and the irritating screeches of vorcha. He heard one screech abruptly cut short. He readied his pistol and walked through the doorway. He saw the Krogan issue his final orders and the vorcha began to move. Shepard fired.

The Krogan looked at him briefly before the vorcha opened fire. Shepard ducked behind the nearby pillar. He quickly leaned out to scan the room and smirked. The Krogan had already gone up the stairs, all that was left on the bottom floor was a bunch of pitiful vorcha. He pulled out, aimed his pistol, and walked forward into the erratic gunfire of the vorcha. He fired. Five pitiful screeches erupted and five vorcha died. The hiss of his regenerating shields barely registered in his mind before the walkway above him shook slightly and Shepard bolted forward to turn up the stairs. A loud roar echoed in the room where Garrus and Jacob were bunkered down and a moment later and gunfire erupted again. He sprinted up the stairs blindly, only to run directly into another Krogan.

"Shit!" He grunted and whipped his pistol across the krogan's face. The shock from the massive bulk shot up his arm, but other than that, it didn't do much. But it gave him enough room to kick out and push the Krogan back out of reach. The Krogan spread his arms and roared. With a slightly throbbing hand he quickly aimed and shot seven quick rounds right into the krogan's open mouth as it roared and before it could charge. A small trail of blood arched through the air to splatter across the floor as the Krogan fell dead at Shepard's feet.

Shepard shook his arm, grunted again, and leapt over the corpse. He tore into the room to find Garrus circling around a maddened Garm, the Blood Pack leader, and Jacob desperately trying to shoot the Krogan without hitting Garrus. It wasn't working too well. Shepard wasted no time and flanked Garm quickly and aimed his pistol at the circling figures. If he missed Garm, he would hit Garrus. He didn't hesitate. He fired. The first two rounds bounced uselessly off of Garm's shields and armour, but the final three rounds managed to puncture the armour and hit flesh. Garm only spun around in rage, roared again, and charged.

"Shit!" Shepard yelled as the hulking mass slammed into him and lifted him off his feet. With a crash, Shepard bounced off the wall and fell to the ground in a heap. The blood was thundering through his ears and his vision was dimmed. He could only get to his knees and shake his head as a large shadow loomed over him again. He heard several gunshots and the frustrated cursing of his squad mates as Garm remained standing. Miranda's voice carried over it all, dripping with anger and annoyance. It cleared his head immediately. With a desperate twist, he flung himself to his back and blindly fired his pistol as he rolled. Blood spattered as several rounds found their mark and Garm growled and stumbled.

Then one resounding shot rang out and Shepard blinked in surprise as blood splashed across his face. Shepard looked up. Garm tried to speak, but he only gargled through the hole under his chin before he toppled over. He looked over to Garrus lowering his sniper rifle and smiled.

"Nice shot."


	12. Mistakes and Musings

She grimaced, her hand lightly pressing against her battered ribs. It still hurt and it most likely would for a few days. She sighed and carefully straightened. For the past few hours, she stood staring out the window, the hulking mass of Omega hovering just outside. Her mind was buzzing with thoughts, whirling away at the near disaster that was the last mission. She couldn't believe she had almost let everything blow up in her face. Normally the problem would have been sized up and dealt with before it got that bad, but for some reason she had hesitated. She never hesitated. It bothered her. She was always cool, calm, collected… a total professional at all times. She had heard it enough times, perhaps in several different ways. She was the Ice Queen. She always charged through every obstacle with ruthless efficiency. Until now. It really bothered her.

She closed her eyes and exhaled and shook her head, the frenzied flood of memories flashing in her mind again. The whole fiasco played out before her, a fiasco she should have choked off long before it could become a problem. But she had hesitated.

It almost killed them all. Her bruises reminded her of that.

She crouched into cover behind the couch, her gaze briefly sliding over the bleeding and possibly dead Garrus before she took a quick glance at the gunship staring them down through the window. Small wisps of smoke were finally rising from various points on the ship's hull. She ducked back down into cover next to Shepard and re-checked her weapon and re-concentrated her powers. No use getting stupid or reckless at this point. She glanced over the couch once more, noticing the grenade launcher laying in front of the window… if only the weapon had landed closer to the couch when Shepard had been flung into the wall. But she shook her head and crouched. It was too far away with the gunship hovering right in front of them. She readied her sub-machine gun for another quick spray of gunfire.

Next to her Shepard scanned the room with dark eyes, blood trickling down the side of his face from a bloody furrow left by one of the gunship's rounds. He was coiled and ready to spring into action despite it. He glanced once at her careful and calm preparations and sneered slightly. If she had been anyone else, she would have missed the subtle twist in his lips. She saw it, but she dismissed it and listened closely to the gunship, waiting for any sign of movement, any opening. She wasn't about to stand up right in its line of fire. But Shepard didn't have the same idea. He glanced over the couch briefly, then crouched for a mere moment before giving her a strange look and then leaping over the back of the couch, rolling as he hit the floor.

"Shepard!" her eyes widened and she stood to try to grab him. He was too quick. She heard his faint grunt as he hit the floor and then the whirring of the weapons mounted on the gunship. She ducked back behind the couch as a stream of rounds tore into the room. "Damn it!"

With one deep breath she readied herself then stood and whirled around. Shepard was crouched under the window, picking up the grenade launcher. His back was flat against the wall and he was looking at her strangely. But she didn't have much time. Several rounds bounced off her shields and the intense impacts made her grunt in pain and nearly double over. She felt several ribs crack and the air was forced from her body as one blast punched into her stomach. She only grunted, stood firm, and flung her arm out at the ship, a blue flash exploding into life as she hurled a warp field into the ship. The ship wavered and the stream of bullets flailed harmlessly over the heads for a brief second. Shepard quickly shot from cover, aimed at the smoking ship, and fired. The ship exploded in a ball of flames. The explosion rocked the room as the ship disintegrated in a shower of metal.

Miranda barely noticed the explosion. She slumped slightly, catching herself on the couch before straightening. She glared at Shepard, her arm wrapping across her stomach and her hand resting on her throbbing ribs. He lowered the grenade launcher and slowly turned to face her. His blood streaked face looked worn and confused as he stared back for a silent moment. His eyes were darker, more uncertain. He stared at her for only a few more seconds before gently shaking his head.

Miranda wanted to scream, wanted to slam him against the bulk-head, but she didn't. She just stood and mutely glared at Shepard as he rushed over to the fallen Turian and she watched as the tired confusion twisted his face before giving way to anxiety and restrained relief as Garrus' sputtered, still alive on the floor.

Those darkened and confused eyes haunted her. It was the exact same look that she had first seen on his face, the desperation and lost glance as he first woke unexpectedly. It bothered her. It bothered her so much that for the first time in many, many years… she didn't know what to do. She had made a mistake. She didn't like it.

Luckily, her mistake didn't get anyone killed. Garrus was alive and well, Jacob came away unscathed, and Shepard only had a few scratches. Her ribs hurt, but she was fine. But Shepard had locked himself in his quarters since Garrus' recovered. Two days and he hadn't come out. She had to do something. There was still the mission. But she didn't know what to do. So she stared out at the window, wondering, her ribs reminding her of her dire mistake.


	13. Torments

He smiled to himself. He knew she would be there, tinkering away the hours in the darkened bay. Everyone else was either asleep or at their stations. But not Ashley. Before every mission she would check and re-check each weapon, diligently ensuring they would function in the midst of any fire-fights that might erupt. She was committed. She was determined. She was damn good at her job. He loved her for it.

Shepard couldn't help himself. With a wry smile curling his lips, he slinked out of the elevator and snuck around the beams in the centre of the room until he was directly behind her. Quietly, he leaned out to glance at her and a small sigh escaped his lips. The dim light shone over her, soft shadows falling down her body. Her hair was tightly wrapped in a small bun, as always, over the tempting curve of her neck as she tilted her head over her work. The gleaming of her skin under the soft light teased him, begging for the brush of his willing lips. Her shoulders rolled slightly as her hands glided over one of the weapons and his eyes slowly dropped down her long back to the gentle swaying of her hips as she shifted her weight from leg to leg. Then, he watched her ass barely wiggle with her movements for long, long moments until his eyes finally roamed down her toned legs and finished their long journey. She was absolutely gorgeous. And he wanted her… he needed her.

He inhaled a sharp breath and licked his lips nervously. He slid from behind the last beam and quickly drew close to her. With trembling fingers, he brushed his hands across her thighs, his fingers curling around her leg lovingly. He grinned as her body stiffened briefly before relaxing in his grip. Slowly, he caressed around her thighs before bringing his hands around her and gliding up and over her tight ass. She gasped and flinched slightly, but didn't pull away from him. Not wanting to press it too quickly, Shepard drew his hands up to her back and then around her sides before wrapping his arms around her waist. With his palms resting on her stomach, he hugged her body to his, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I was wondering when you'd get your butt over here, skipper." Ashley leaned her head against his, smiling at the warm embrace as her hands gently covered his over her stomach. "I thought you might have decided to just stand there and stare all night."

Shepard could only bury his face into her neck and laugh. Ashley's fingers caressed small circles over the back of his hands as she gasped at his ticklish laughter and tightening embrace. She calmly waited until his laughter faded to a light chuckle and he pulled his face away from her neck.

"What gave me away?" He tilted his head and whispered.

"Mmmm. I don't know…" Ashley chuckled herself, "It might have been that sharp hiss after you stared for a few minutes. Or maybe it was the long sigh after you snuck all the way from the elevator."

"And I thought I was being all sneaky." He hugged her a bit more tightly and laughed again. This time Ashley laughed with him. Slowly, Shepard starting rubbing small circles over her stomach and their laughter faded into shallow, quivering breaths. Ashley kept her hands over his as he gently caressed her stomach, cautiously circling ever lower with each stroke. Soon, his fingers brushed the waistband of her pants. Shepard swallowed anxiously then exhaled. He flattened his palm against her stomach then pushed against the fabric. With a sigh, his fingers slid beneath her pants and over her skin.

Ashley stiffened at first, her breath catching at the sudden presence of his fingers. But she bit her bottom lip and moaned softly. She relaxed as Shepard patiently caressed her, his fingers teasing along the top of her trimmed bush. He was waiting for her. Ashley smiled and let go of that hand to slide her own hand slowly up her stomach and over one heaving breast. Her hand slowed slightly as she pressed her palm against her breast as her hand slid over her. With a low moan, her hand finally slid off her body and over Shepard's cheek.

Shepard smiled and his finger slid lower, twirling in the small curls of her bush. Ashley pushed her hips forward, pressing her mound against his exploring finger. Shepard chuckled. He let that finger rub small circles over her. His other hand finally stopped its own circular teasing and quickly slid over her stomach. Ashley moaned again as Shepard's fingers brushed the underside of her breasts before his hand gently cupped her. Ashley's body started to tremble. As he gently caressed one breast, his fingers curiously brushing over a taut nipple straining against a tight shirt, Shepard finally pushed his other hand completely into her pants.

Ashley gasped as his fingers curled over her and finally brushed against her pussy. She bucked in his grasp. Shepard wasted no time and quickly let his fingers part her quivering lips and press inside her. He was lost in curious bliss and his finger slid in, out, and around her now wet pussy. Ashley's knees buckled at the quick penetration and the surprising ferocity of his touch. Her free hand quickly slammed down on the table to regain her balance. It didn't work. Her legs gave way and Shepard chuckled as he pressed his arms as tightly as possible to her, his hands curling and holding her up. She gasped as her wait settled into his hands, his fingers pressing even deeper into her as he guided her to her knees.

"Shepard." She whispered as his fingers retreated slightly before pushing back into her. Her hips bucked at his eager touch. Ashley pulled his head to hers, her hand caressing his cheek and head. Her other hand dropped down her body, briefly covering his and pressing it firmly against her breast before sliding lower until her hand was over his between her legs, her fingers guiding his through the slightly damp fabric. For long moments, all that could be heard were heavy breaths and soft moans as Ashley held Shepard's hand to her body, guiding his fingers as they plunged into her. Finally, Ashley began to tremble and a light grunt escaped her lips. "Shepard!"

Her body spasmed as she growled his name and an orgasm lit her body alight. Shepard didn't slow at first, but instead continued to slide his fingers into her now clenching pussy as he pressed himself against her ass. Ashley groaned as she felt his hardness press into her through their clothes. She continued to tremble at his touch until her hand finally slid up and her fingers wrapped around his wrist. With a sigh she pulled and his fingers slipped from her sensitive pussy. She couldn't take anymore. With a quick twist she turned to face Shepard, his eyes darkened with desire and a smile twisting his lips. She smiled back and slowly started to lean in. Their arms wrapped around each other and their lips grew closer until Shepard could feel her hot breath on his lips. He wanted to taste her. He leaned in closer…

"Shit!" a loud clang echoed through the bay and the two lovers tore apart. Ashley shot to her feet and quickly went to work straightening her clothes. Shepard only groaned in frustration and pushed himself to his feet. He glanced over at the now opening elevator to see a crewman picking up whatever he dropped. He sighed then looked over to Ashley.

She shrugged and gave him a sheepish smile, mouthing an apology. Shepard warmly smiled back and raised his hand to cup her cheek. He could wait. She was worth it. He slowly drew his hand away, but Ashley quickly grabbed that hand and growled a whisper at him.

"I promise." With a seductive pout she kissed his palm lightly before smirking. Shepard groaned as she took his glistening fingers into her mouth and licked her own juices from his fingers. It was her promise to him. They would be together. These little interruptions would not keep them apart. He smiled…

He wearily opened his eyes. The light blue reflections from the fish tank rippled on the darkened ceiling. He only stared at the dancing ripples, the hot tears streaming down the sides of his face. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. He remembered. It hurt. It hurt so much. It was a broken promise now. They were apart. He closed his eyes tightly against the tears.

He hadn't left his room in days. Her promise tormented him. All he did was lay there in his darkened quarters, either dreaming of Ashley or cursing himself. He still wanted her. He still loved her. But she was dead. He had chosen duty over her. He had broken that promise. Not her. He tore their love apart. He couldn't live with it anymore. Or so he thought.

He was confused. He remembered the bleak determination, the small nagging hope as he leapt over the couch. He had wanted that ship to gun him down. But she hadn't let that happen. With a fierce determination of her own, that Cerberus agent had stood directly in the line of fire. He still could feel the clenching knot in his stomach as several rounds bounced off her shield and the admiration as she had shrugged them off to fling a biotic warp blast into the ship. She had bought him the time to reload and then stand to fire that grenade directly into the hovering ship. She had saved his ass. Again.

He remembered the scowl as she hunched over once the ship exploded in flames. Her piercing eyes made his heart lurch. He had stared at her for a few moments, all the pain and torment now mixing with a new confusion. She knew what he had almost done. She knew and that bothered him.

He cursed and sighed, tears still streaming from his eyes. It was all so confusing. He had lost so much and he had simply wanted to die. He had run out of reasons to live…

But he had lived. And this time he was relieved. He didn't fully understand why. He remembered that brief clenching worry and the shame he felt at her scowl. Why, why did he care? She wasn't Ashley. She wasn't anything to him. So why the hell did he care? Ashley was gone and he wanted to die. It was simple… it was supposed to be simple.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

"I promise." With a seductive pout she kissed his palm lightly before smirking. Shepard groaned as she took his glistening fingers into her mouth and licked her own juices from his fingers. It was her promise to him. They would be together. These little interruptions would not keep them apart. He smiled and reluctantly turned away from her smouldering eyes, resisting the urge to seal her smiling lips with a ferocious kiss. They had time.

So he walked away from her, smiling to himself. Nothing was going to keep them apart. He knew it. Fate was finally on his side. He turned back one last time before the elevator. Ashley was gazing back, smiling before mouthing the words one last time.

"I promise."

The comm buzzed and he opened his eyes. With a sigh he rolled out of bed and pushed himself to his feet. Tears still burned his eyes and Shepard tried his best to wipe them away. It didn't help much. The comm buzzed again. He growled at the intrusion and quickly swept his pants off the back of his chair and slid them on. With a frustrated sigh he quickly walked over to the door and released the lock.

"Wha…" he started to ask tersely as the door slid open, but his mouth hung open as that new confusion exploded within him.

"Shepard," Miranda's piercing eyes looked directly into his and his chest tightened strangely at those eyes filled with knowing anger "we need to talk."

He stared back for a few seconds before nodding wordlessly. He stood aside to let her in. He burned in shame once more at her continued glare before she entered his quarters. She knew and it bothered him. He still didn't know why. He had lost everything and he had wanted to die. He thought it was that simple.

The door hissed shut and he turned to look at Miranda. She stood with her back to him for a few moments before she spun around to face him. She grimaced slightly and her hands flinched towards her ribs before she caught herself. Surprisingly, Shepard's chest tightened at the sight. He didn't know what anything was supposed to be anymore.


	14. Admission

The brief, yet fierce clacking of her heels off the floor bolstered her resolve. It had been long enough. She needed to do something. She needed to talk with Shepard. She exhaled sharply at the decision and winced immediately. Her hand rose to rest against her sore ribs and she gently nodded at the solemn reminder. Shepard was her responsibility. She had almost let two years of hard work crumble in her grasp. Everyone around her could have paid the price for her mistake. She had to do something now.

The anger at herself and at Shepard roiled within her as she quickly bridged the distance from the elevator to the door of the Captain's quarters. She stared for a few seconds at the red, glowing light of the door panel. With several careful breaths, her ribs aching slightly, she suppressed her anger. She removed her hand from her ribs and let it fall to her side. She needed to stand strong. She pushed the panel and heard the soft buzz within the room. Several moments passed with no answer and Miranda pursed her lips. Waiting only a few seconds more, she pressed the panel again, albeit with a bit more insistence. A few more moments passed and Miranda began to raise her hand for a third time, but the door hissed open just as her hand began to rise.

"Wha…" Shepard huffed briefly before his face, tense with annoyance, slackened into an almost dazed confusion.

"Shepard," Miranda only glared, staring directly into his eyes. "we need to talk."

He stared for a few seconds before nodding wordlessly and stepping aside. She quickly stepped through the door and into his quarters before stopping just above the steps leading to his bed. She quickly looked around, her eyes darting over the room. It was rather barren. The fish tank was empty, the display case was empty, most of the shelves were empty… almost the entire room was empty save for the furniture. There were no personal touches. Not one that she could see. It was unsettling.

The door hissed shut behind her and Miranda was shaken from the distracting thoughts. She was there for a reason. She needed to focus. She spun around. She grimaced and her hand briefly jolted towards her ribs. She clenched her jaw and stilled her hand. She didn't want him to notice. She took one breath and calmly gazed directly at Shepard. His eyes were haunted by confusion, both that familiar tint she had seen earlier and a tint that was entirely new. It pricked at her for some reason. Her anger faltered again. Not enough to stop her though.

"What the hell are you doing?" The question came out a bit more harshly than she wanted and she almost grimaced. Starting off on the wrong foot was not a good idea. She watched as his eyes flared defiantly. He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw her out. She could tell. He didn't want to deal with her, with any of it. But he only took several deep breaths as he stared into her blazing and challenging eyes.

He knew what she was asking. His set jaw and piercing glare were proof enough. And he was clearly struggling with his response. She wasn't sure if it was a good sign. The stare down dragged on for long minutes before Shepard finally decided to speak.

"I don't have to explain myself to anyone." … and least of all you. He didn't say the last part, but she heard it clearly. Her lips pressed into a firm line and she took one stuttering breath as her eyes flashed dangerously. He didn't flinch. He didn't even smirk. He merely turned away and walked towards the desk. She bristled at the dismissal.

"Damn it, Shepard." She said through clenched teeth, barely keeping herself from screaming. "This is not the time for childish nonsense."

She winced immediately as the words left her mouth. It was just a fleeting and immediate reaction. She hadn't meant to actually say it aloud. It had simply slipped out in her frustration and anger. She didn't even need to see Shepard tense and hear his strained laugh to recognise it was a stupid move on her part.

"Childish nonsense," he shook his head, his laugh echoing strangely in the near empty quarters. "I died. I was dead, Miranda. Then I suddenly wake to find that two years were stripped away and nothing has changed at all. Everything is just as I left it, everyone is still burying their heads in the sand, and I'm still needed to save the galaxy."

He shook his head again, his lips twisted in a mocking smirk as his laugh grew quiet. His eyes closed and Miranda almost gasped as a small glint of light from the corner of his eyes rolled down his cheek. It was a tear. He was crying. No… she finally noticed his already red and swollen eyes… he had been crying for some time. Her anger almost crumbled completely at the revelation. The small girl inside her stirred briefly, an unfamiliar yearning prickling within.

"Did you expect me to jump to attention and embrace all this with open arms?" he opened his eyes and tilted his head to glance at her for a moment. His eyes glistened with tears and she could only blink mutely. He lowered his head and sighed. "Well, I won't. I'm tired and suddenly…" he paused and took a breath before exhaling, his shoulders dropping as he spoke. "I just don't care."

Miranda's eyes widened, not just at his hollow and weak admission but at his slumping body. She hadn't expected him to actually admit anything. She knew he had been careless, she knew he had been reckless, and she knew he wanted to die. But she never expected to hear any hint of it from his own mouth. She never expected to see defeat dragging down his body. He was admitting it. He was actually giving up. And suddenly that little girl inside was smothered as an explosion of anger overwhelmed her.

"We have a mission, Shepard!" Miranda's voice shook as her hands balled into clenched fists. Two years of hard work were crumbling before her. Everything she had done meant nothing. The greatest hero mankind may have ever known... she had spent years of her own life, years of sacrifice and toil to bring him back to life, and he was going to quit. All his accomplishments, all his battles, all her work to keep it all alive… and he was simply going to meekly surrender. He was going to walk away. She couldn't help but scream this time. A real bloody icon.

She opened her mouth to continue, but was quickly cut off.

"No!" Shepard spun to face her as he violently waved his arm. "You have a mission! I didn't sign up for this! Any of this!"

She blinked at his outburst and closed her mouth. Pure agony was etched into every line and shadow of his face. She could only stare into his eyes. His chest heaved with heavy breaths as they stared at each other. His eyes flashed, anger and defiance briefly bristling behind the exhaustion and confusion. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. But just as quickly, the fire burnt out and his eyes darkened only with the weight of the situation bearing down on his weary shoulders. His hands fell open. He actually looked tired. He shook his head again and turned back towards his desk.

"I didn't ask to be brought back." His voice was flat. "I owe you nothing."

Miranda stared at his back as he leaned onto his arms and hunched over his desk.

"I owe you nothing."

She sighed as he repeated himself with a soft whisper. She stared at his back for a while, her mind racing to find something to do, something to say. She wanted to scream. She wanted to curse. She wanted to beat him over the head. But mostly, she just wanted to say something, anything, to reach him... to convince him that there was something to live for. A reason to fight on and finish the mission. But she knew better. She was Cerberus. If she meant anything to Shepard, it was only as a despised reminder of everything he railed against. She couldn't help him.

Her chest tightened. She shook her head at the pitiful sight of the once proud hero slumped over his desk, a broken and defeated man. She had failed. She exhaled slowly and walked towards the door. She stopped as it hissed open and stared ahead. It finally hit her. She had just wasted two years of her life. She sighed one last time.

"I actually believed in you." She stepped through the door and left Shepard alone.


	15. Broken Promises

The incessant buzz of his terminal grated on his nerves. For over an hour it had squawked in his quiet quarters. He tried to ignore it but it was being as stubborn as that damned Cerberus agent had been. At least she hadn't returned since the day before. The terminal needed to take the hint. Clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth, Shepard tried one last time to shut out the noise and slip back into his defeated despair. The terminal only continued the infernal buzzing.

"Damn it." He angrily slammed his hand down to the mattress and pushed himself up slowly, shaking his head in frustration. All he wanted was quiet. He didn't want to be bothered anymore. If he had to, he'd shoot the damned computer to shut it up. That would teach it.

The terminal only buzzed again and he sighed. Still clenching his teeth, he stood and rubbed his forehead roughly as a wave of dizziness crashed through him. He stood still as it washed over him before shaking his head free of it. He hadn't moved in some time and it seemed his body didn't like the sudden change. With another annoyed sigh, he walked away from his bed and up the small set of stairs to his desk. As he turned to face the desk, he saw the glaring and flashing orange light break the soothing light blue glow from the empty aquarium that lit his room. For a brief moment, he thought of shooting his terminal again. But he shook his head of the idea quickly as he leaned over to do something far simpler, even if far less satisfying… simply turn it off.

But his eyes caught the flashing status for the new message and were drawn to the name of the sender automatically. His finger froze, hovering over the switch. For long moments he stared at the flashing message, his finger poised to simply end the incessant stubbornness of the terminal. There was no reason to read the email. There was nothing in there that mattered to him. He should just turn it off and be done with the terminal. But still, his finger remained motionless. A small, soft pulse fluttered within him… a feeling, a tiny whisper to sit and read the message. It was a strange sensation. It was a silly sensation. He stared blankly at the screen for minutes, the urge to shut down the terminal battling the prodding feeling to sit and read it. It should have been no contest, that silly little feeling was idiotic. It was wrong.

But he listened to it anyway. A sudden burst of warmth flooded his body as his finger curled away from the power switch and glided slowly over to firmly tap the enter key. With a bright flash, the status update disappeared as the new window expanded to fill the screen. With a confused look, Shepard eased himself into the chair and began to read, that tiny whisper seeming to sigh in profound relief.

Commander Shepard:

Our scans in the Armada System…

* * *

><p>Miranda nervously drummed her fingers off her console and her foot bounced ever so slightly off the floor. Everything was a jumble inside of her at the moment. She was damn near giddy that Shepard was actually up and out of his quarters. She was anxious that he had chosen to go alone to the surface of the planet, unsure of what he might do. And she was irritated with herself for all of that and the little glowing warmth that kept trying to spark into life in her chest. It was all so confusing. She just couldn't sit still.<p>

And maybe that unnerved her all the more. Before Shepard had come along, everything had been so easy. Everything she was asked to do, she did… damn near perfectly. She had always maintained poise and control, tampering her emotions and being cool and controlled. She was the Ice Queen. But now she was trembling like a worried mother or worse… an anxious schoolgirl. Ever since he accidentally woke in her lab and she had looked into his eyes, Shepard had screwed with her control. And she didn't even know why. She didn't like it. At all.

And now here she was, barely managing to remain seated, as Shepard was down the cold little planet after days of sulking in his room. She wanted to strangle him. But instead Miranda merely sighed once more. It had been a gamble allowing that message through. She was supposed to limit, if not sever, Shepard's ties to the Alliance. The Illusive Man might not be pleased. But she had needed to do something before he wilted away in those dark quarters. Luckily, the gamble seemed to be paying off… he was out and he was moving. If only she didn't have to wait the entire day in the process.

She rubbed her face with her hands, breathing deeply and trying to calm herself. There was no need to get that worked up over it. She kept telling herself that, but for some reason she wasn't listening. It was extremely irritating. She needed a distraction. With another sigh, her fingers quickly glided over the keys to the terminal and she quickly pushed herself up and away from it as first notes of Nielsen's Fifth began to play through the speakers. Slowly, she walked to the window and gazed out, her eyes drawn to the planet hovering just outside.

The planet glowed slightly, a strange ethereal shimmer wavering in her vision. It was oddly comforting. But there was something else there as well. She couldn't place it exactly, a feeling hovering just out of reach, ticking at the edge of her senses. It wasn't malicious, but it bothered her. She was used to things easily defined, things she could see and touch and dissect. This eluded that. It was just… a feeling. It made her nervous and made her body itch with the need to fidget. She crossed her arms across her chest, her fingers trapped between her arms and body, stopping them before they could even start to drum nervously.

What was wrong with her? She didn't remember ever feeling this unhinged.

With steadying breaths she watched the large, near stationary swirls of wind and snow cover much of the planet save for a few clear, open spots. She couldn't see anything from so far away, couldn't tell just by looking where he was at. But she knew of course. Her training wouldn't have let him go alone without knowing the precise coordinates by heart and knowing that this ship could land on top of him if necessary. Her eyes bored into those coordinates, her thoughts a jumble of confused anxiety, relief, and mysterious feelings as her fingers tried desperately to drum against her arms despite being trapped. She tried to clear her mind, but it didn't seem to work anymore.

So she sighed and stood there, staring at the cold planet, worrying and hoping as she tried to lose herself in the music again, her foot beating an anxiously steady rhythm off the floor.

* * *

><p>Shepard knelt slowly to pick up the glinting dog tag half buried in the snow. His legs were starting to burn slightly, and his hands were cold despite the protection of his armour. Long hours had passed since he had landed the shuttle amidst the scattered debris and begun his search. It could have gone quicker, easier if he wasn't alone. But that soft little voice had told him that he needed to do this. Alone. And he listened. He didn't know why, but he listened. With a low sigh, he picked up the tags and gently brushed the snow clear with his thumb.<p>

Chase, Addison. The name was only vaguely familiar. Most of the names had been. Despite the smaller crew, he still hadn't gotten to know everyone on board all that well. He had made the effort, but still many of these names only conjured a blurry face and a few short memories. Most of the time it didn't bother him. It was ridiculous to assume you could befriend or know every member of your crew. But it didn't stop him from feeling guilty at times, times like these. They had died under his command and he couldn't really remember all of them aside from a name and a face. It felt wrong.

He shook his head. There was nothing he could do now aside from returning the tags to those soldier's families. It wasn't enough. It never was. With another sigh, Shepard stood and slowly pocketed the tags. He always wanted to do more. He shook his head again started forward through the wreckage once more, scouring every little area for another tag. At least he could do this one thing for these soldiers, for their families. It was something, even if he couldn't deliver it himself to those families. Even if he still knew he had failed protecting those soldiers. He failed protecting a lot of things…

The words echoed in his head and his surrounding sharpened in sudden clarity. That tiny voice seemed to hum in relief again as cold waves shot through his body. The world lurched around him, his arms barely managing to keep him standing as he leaned against the wreckage of what was left of the old mess hall. His chest tightened painfully as those last thoughts and the familiar wreckage thundered loudly through his head. How could he have forgotten? He shut his eyes tightly, his senses flooding with the memory. All he could see, all he could hear… was her.

* * *

><p>Her laughter echoed in the empty room. She squirmed as his fingers playfully tickled her side and stomach. She tried to swat his shoulder, but he doubled his efforts and she would shrink into the chair in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Shepard only smiled and continued his assault. After several long minutes of unrelenting tickling, her laughter started to break with short wheezing coughs. With a smug smile, his fingers slowly stopped their prodding and rested calmly on her side. He was victorious.<p>

She took several deep breaths, still choking with laughter and glared at him playfully, tears running down her cheeks from the assault. She stuck her tongue out at the smile curling his lips teasingly before trembling with giggles. It took several more minutes until the laughter and giggles completely faded and she took a few normal breaths before exhaling loudly.

"Meanie." She swatted his shoulder again and wiggled her nose at him.

Shepard laughed then slid one had over her side and around her waist. With a tug he slid her closer. Ashley smiled and leaned in as he dragged their bodies closer together behind the table. With a sigh, she slid one hand along his chest and rested her head on his shoulder.

Shepard smiled as his heart thumped in his chest. He had never felt so wonderful before. His arm tightened around her waist and he rested his cheek against the top of her head. He sighed happily, the woman he loved nestled against him in the silent and empty mess hall. He closed his eyes and basked in the moment. Her warmth blanketed him as he listened to her soft breathing. Her fingers drew small circles on his chest and rubbed her side gently in return. His heart swelled at the tenderness, his body and soul burning with love. It was perfect. He smiled.

The minutes passed slowly as they revelled in the simple company of one another until they were unsure if it had been minutes or hours.

"Shepard." Her voice was quiet, nearly a whisper as she spoke. Her fingers stilled and her hand flattened against his chest.

"Mhmm." Shepard hummed, his eyes still closed.

"I… I need you to promise me something." Her fingers started to curl against him as her voice cracked slightly. "Please."

Shepard opened his eyes at the nervousness in her voice. "Of course."

Ashley was silent for a few seconds, her breathing growing shallow and quick. She knew he wasn't going to like it. He didn't want to hear it. But she just had to say it, she needed to know.

"If… if something were to hap…" she didn't get a chance to finish.

"I told you, none of that!" he growled. He didn't want to listen to this talk. He had hoped the tickling had stopped it. Had shaken that fear out of her. He was wrong. He really didn't want to hear it. He started to open his mouth again.

"Please, just listen." Ashley's body started to tremble and Shepard sighed and tightened his grip around her waist. His mouth closed and he listened, her trembling worrying him, her faltering voice making him wince. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm scared. I'm scared." Her fingers balled into a tight fist, his shirt crumpled in her grasp as her voice fell to a trembling whisper before rising back up. "I don't really know what's going on… but if it is the Reapers... they destroyed a whole civilisation, Skipper… my family, my sisters…"

Shepard choked a gasp off in his chest as he felt a warm dampness on his chest. Ashley was crying.

"I don't want them hurt." She pulled her head up and turned to look into his eyes. "Please, promise me… if I die, you won't let anything hurt them. You will stop whatever this is. You will protect them. Please…"

Shepard stared into her glistening eyes begging him with all her heart. With a stuttering exhale he gently wrapped her in his arms and hugged her. She wasn't afraid for herself. She was afraid for her family. How could he have been so foolish? And even then, he should have listened. He loved her. He should have been there for her.

"I promise." He titled his head and kissed the top of her head as she gave a small sob and buried her face in his chest. He was such an idiot. How could he have been so cruel? "I won't let anything happen to them…" he pressed his cheek to the top of her head again as he gently squeezed her in his arms. "Or to you… I promise."

Ashley simply leaned into his body and wrapped her arms around him as the fearful, worried tears kept coming. Shepard could only hold her tightly, trying to stifle the tears and still her trembling. She buried her face into his chest and cried.

"I promise."

* * *

><p>He stood next to the small monument, gazing at it in silence as his tears slowly dried. The tags felt heavy on his waist and his heart burned in his chest as his eyes wandered from the monument to the letters emblazoned on the hull: Normandy. There were so many memories… so much lost. The ship had been his home. He had been happy. But now it lay shattered on a cold, desolate world.<p>

He idly stroked the packet of tags as he stood amidst the wreckage of the ship and gazed silently at the monument to her and her crew. He might not have been able to save them, but at least he could honour their sacrifice. So he stood in the shadow of his past and remembered. All of it.

There were so many memories… too many broken promises. He clenched his fist tightly and shut his eyes as they burned again, threatening to cry once more. She was dead. They wouldn't be living together. He couldn't protect her. There was nothing he could do about those promises anymore. But there was still one promise left. And he had almost broken it. Just like before, he had taken his precious time in being there, in doing what he should have done already. He growled in anger at himself before taking several calming breaths. He had almost broken that promise, but he didn't. Not yet. Slowly, his anger cooled and he nodded to himself.

Warmth engulfed his body as he finally set his course. He had a reason again. He sighed and opened his eyes to look one last time at his old ship, his home. All the memories assaulted him one more time… all the laughter, the friends, the love, the sacrifice… her body trembling in his arms, tears wet against his chest. He remembered. He would not forget this time. With a couple of fresh tears welling in his eyes, he gave a small, fragile smile and whispered.

"I promise."


	16. A First Step

He felt lighter. He could not explain it. Laying there, stretched out on the couch with his arm lazily draped over his eyes, he wondered. He was sore. He was tired. And he was drained so completely that he hadn't moved in hours. It had been a long day, foraging in that frozen wreckage for hours just to retrieve the stark reminders of the crew he had failed. He should feel horrible, defeated... but he only felt lighter. All those aches and pains, the utter exhaustion and weariness, told him that the grim task was exactly what he had needed. For the first time since he woke in that damned Cerberus facility, he felt alive. He felt almost normal.

He sighed. It made no sense. He slid his arm off his eyes and stared up at the dark ceiling. He had broken under the strain of the last few months: finding love, letting her die, saving the galaxy, then dying himself. Now he found himself alive again, the galaxy still blindly ignoring the threat and the fate of all their lives once again bore down on his shoulders. It should have destroyed him. It did. At least he thought it did. Just a day before he threw in the towel. He quit.

"I quit." the thought echoed in his mind and shame burned through him. But here he lay. Sore and exhausted, certainly... but alive, determined, and ready to bear the weight again. He had failed once. Many died because of it. He could not let those deaths be in vain.

He sat up and stretched, groaning as muscles strained and joints popped reluctantly. The shame still lingered. He knew it would for a while longer. But he wasn't quitting now. He discovered his purpose. Something had finally come along to smack him upside his head and force him to pull himself together. He stood up with a resolute breath. He would pull himself together. He was done moping. He owed it to those dead crewman. He owed it to Ashley. They died to protect the galaxy. Who was he to throw in the towel and belittle those sacrifices? He had no right.

He glanced down at the table briefly, her eyes staring up from that picture. "Damn straight skipper." he chuckled as the memory of Ashley's casual, smarmy reply flared inside his head. She loved saying it. He would miss hearing it. He nodded at her picture as his body relaxed, a sense of peace at his decision rolling through his body. He could almost see her smile.

"I promise." he turned from the table and walked towards the door.

Miranda sat at her desk, chin in her hands as she stared blankly at the door. She hoped the small mission had cleared Shepard's head. She hoped it would bring life back to him. She had been wrong. As soon as he had docked and boarded the Normandy, he disappeared back into his cabin. He had set course for a drop point to deliver the dog tags to the Alliance and that was it. He had given up and she had failed. She sighed and pushed herself away from the desk. There was no point hiding it anymore. She had to tell the Illusive Man. They couldn't rely on Shepard.

"Damn it." she pounded the desk as she tried to stifle the growl rumbling in her chest. She clenched her teeth tightly to cut it off completely when the door to her room slid open. With one controlled breath she gave a terse comment. "I'm busy."

"This won't take long." her breath caught slightly at Shepard's voice. Her mind raced at the shock as he continued without her acknowledgement. "I've ordered Joker to set course for Omega once we clear the drop. Rest up and prepare for the mission."

His voice was tired and strained, but there was something different. Something there she hadn't heard since he had woken in that med bay. She looked up and blinked at him as he stood tall in her door, his back straight and his shoulders set.

"We have a doctor to recruit." he nodded to her, his eyes gleaming with intent and clarity. Her chest tightened in surprise at the determination set in his stance and stare. He was sure, he was calm, and yet everything about this man now standing before her was so intense. His presence was almost suffocating. She was beginning to understand why The Illusive Man wanted Shepard. He commanded respect so easily. She stared at him for a few moments, his eyes sharp and clear for the first time since they had met. Her heart fluttered slightly. She swallowed quickly before finally shaking her head.

"Aye, aye Commander." her voice betrayed none of her surprise. With another nod, Shepard turned and walked away. The door shut behind him, leaving Miranda staring and confused... and a little disappointed that he had left so quickly. She growled at the impulsive thought and shook her head violently.

"Damn it!" she swore again. This time for entirely different reasons. What the hell was with this man that she couldn't keep control?


	17. A Little Loss of Control

She was getting lost. The mere possibility sparked a flustered annoyance deep within her that threatened to force its way out in a low growl. He was talking way too fast and on too many topics at once and it was all starting to jumble in her mind. She didn't like feeling lost. Especially when the mission depended greatly on the success of this small project.

"Still don't see if the base is a natural compound or a synthetically produced toxin" Mordin's fingers blurred over the terminal and the image rotated as his eyes flitted rapidly. "If synthetic maybe the same process can be used to induce heightened physical abilities or possibly biotic intensity. Possible surveillance applications might arise as well."

Miranda did her best to keep up with his hyper speech, but found herself squinting and clenching her teeth in increasing concentration just to understand what he was saying, let alone follow his scientific suppositions. It was maddening.

"Could create a synthetic counter agent… nonono, too much trial and error. Urgent. Speed not certainty" he nodded to himself "And in swarms a biochemical compound would likely fail. Unacceptable. Maybe specialized armour? Or artificially thickening the subject's dermal layer…" he shook his head "Too risky. Could cause degenerative tissue failure."

Mordin flicked one button and several diagnostics appeared. Rapidly talking through every motion.

"Would possibly work on Turian physiology but would cause unacceptable instability within the human nervous system. Maybe strengthen it? No, too flexible. Too adaptable. Would take years. Interesting… human anatomy so much more adaptable than other species. Must research this" he made a quick note before tapping his cheek in thought "maybe generate a small mass effect field." he typed out several equations as he thought out loud "would have to be stable, but portable. Possible energy source would need to last indefinitely. Size would not be able to guarantee safety with large swarms still."

"Slow down." Miranda closed her eyes as she rubbed her temples before taking a deep breath and looking back at him. She re-asked the question that started his hyper rambling "Do you think you can counteract the seeker swarms?"

Mordin blinked at the interruption before looking back to the mass of equations already noted. And started to type into the terminal again.

"Must determine most reliable method within the established time frame. Given the nature of the paralytic compound there are several interesting pos…"

"Mordin." she held up a hand and he stopped working. "Just a quick answer."

He looks back down at the research and data for a few moments then looks back up and nods. "Yes."

"That's all I needed to know. I'll inform Shepard and The Illusive Man. Keep me informed of your progress." she turned on her heel as he nodded and returned back to work, talking rapidly to himself still.

"Maybe a plasma burst? No, more likely to liquefy our exposed organs than disable a swarm…"

Miranda shook her head as the door opened then quickly hissed shut behind her, silencing his rapid fire meanderings. She was used to far more control in these situations and this was turning out to be way too much guesswork for her liking. She flicked the terminal for the lift and inhaled deeply. Everything about the mission was one wild shot in the dark. There was nothing concrete to rely on other than the abilities of a few specialised individuals... some who weren't the most dependable of people. The doors opened on that sobering thought. She blinked then walked in.

"Shepard." she nodded to him as he leaned against the far side of the lift. He nodded back before asking.

"Our good doctor have any ideas?"

"Plenty." she sighed as the doors closed on the lift continued down to the lower decks. "Though some seem safer for the swarms than us. And some had nothing to do with them at all."

"Once he gets going he's hard to stop." Shepard chuckled lightly with a small smile curling his lips. She was surprised by smile. It wasn't taut and anguished. It was tinged with mirth and amusement. It was surprisingly pleasant. She bit the inside of her cheek at the foolish and frivolous thought as Shepard continued. "Kelly is right... he's like a hamster on coffee."

She just nodded at the description, still biting her cheek as the tiniest of smiles curled the corners of her lips. Shepard sighed and shook his head at her with a small chuckle as well before continuing.

"It's shaping up to be an interesting crew so far. Though I am not too thrilled with a few of the recruits the Illusive Man has chosen." his face darkened slightly. "A criminal and a mercenary are not the type of people I really want on my crew."

Miranda turned to gaze at him. "Sometimes situations call for strange bedfellows, Shepard. You didn't exactly have a normal crew when you took down Saren either."

"Touché." he smiled then sighed ruefully. "I seem to be a magnet for these kind of situations"

She studied his face and posture carefully at the sigh, worry creeping into her thoughts briefly before the lift doors opened and he shook his head.

"Best of a bad situation then." he gave one curt nod as Miranda exited the lift. She nodded back with slight surprise at his quick recovery. "And I guess I could have done worse. I could have stayed dead." his jaw set in determination at the chance to keep his last promise. He looked at Miranda and tilted his head. "Thank you."

The doors shut as she only blinked in response, her breath hitching at the odd feelings swarming inside her before she bit her lip and closed her eyes, breathing deeply to regain control. That damnable little girl buried deep... why wouldn't she just stay buried?! With a near growl she spun and marched to her quarters, jumbled thoughts swirling in her head. Risks, strange bedfellows, and too much uncertainty... she hated all of it. She needed more control.

The doors opened to her quarters and she quickly walked over and sank into the chair near the viewport. The door close and she pressed the heels of her palms tightly into her eyes before slowly dragging her hands down her cheeks with an exhausted exhale as leaned back into the chair. The chair curved around her back snugly and she gently rested her hands on her lap as she took several deep breaths. She was used to impossible. She loved proving everyone wrong. But she always held all the chips before. She always had control. Not anymore. She didn't like it at all. But it was urgent, as Mordin said. The risks had to be taken. But why did her own emotions have to be so damn flighty?

She just had to trust they would manage the impossible. They had to. She sighed. Hopefully, nothing melted on the way.


	18. Easy and Painless

She felt on edge. The cold metal grating clanking under their feet and sterile walls were normal, but there was a thick suffocating cloud of cruelty and guile hanging in the air. And most of that aura was not coming from the prisoners. Her wary eyes scanned around her diligently, her suspicions screeching in her head and her muscles already tensed to lash out at any possible moment. It was a good thing Shepard was no naive Alliance fool. The pistol at her side and the assorted weapons on Shepard and Garrus' backs eased her worry. Walking armouries were never a bad thing to have around. At least they could try and fight out of this hellish ship.

That anxiety was only increased when Shepard's face darkened as several loud grunts mutely echoed as they wound around a corner and slowly walked in front of a small enclosed room. One guard calmly watched as another viciously beat at a helpless prisoner huddling in a small ball beneath each blow. Shepard glared and Miranda flexed her fingers in anticipation as he simply walked up to the calmly watching guard, energy humming within her, her power at the ready.

"Is there something I can do for you?" the dispassionate voice echoed slightly within the guard's helmet.

"There is no excuse for beating a prisoner that can't fight back." Shepard turned briefly to look at the guard before glaring back at the beating with a dark glare.

"This is a massage compared to what his victim's went through."

Miranda tensed at Shepard's clenching jaw, paying little attention to the prisoner or the other guard. She had seen far worse over the last twenty years, maybe even done far worse according to some people, and she really couldn't feel any sympathy for what was most likely a brutal murderer. But apparently Shepard was more noble than that. Or hot headed. Maybe both. It was hard to tell with him.

"I wasn't asking." his voice was laced with surprising menace.

"You're in a high security facility with guns and cameras everywhere and you're threatening me?" the guard was incredulous as he turned to almost laugh at Shepard. Miranda tensed at the escalating atmosphere.

"Those guns and cameras won't be fast enough to save you." Shepard only gave a glance in the guard's direction.

"Is that right?" the guard's voice rang with hollow confidence before Shepard and turned to step right into his face, eyes blazing.

"I told you to stop." his face was set rigidly and his gaze deadly. The guard hesitated only a few seconds before turning meekly away.

"Call it off." he tried to wave off the threat as Shepard nodded lightly. The other guard looked in confusion between the two before stopping tentatively. "At least for now."

Miranda eased off at the quick retreat by the guard at Shepard's imposing will. Shepard barely took second notice of the guard after ensuring the beating stopped. With one last solemn nod he turned and continued to the end of the corridor without a second thought, ignoring the prisoners calling out as he passed. Miranda gave a quick look to Garrus, who simply looked back and shrugged briefly at the brief little interruption before following quickly. She took one last look back at the prisoner and the guard who was shaking his head at his comrade in the room before walking past. Apparently the reports didn't exaggerate as much as she had suspected. Three against an army and he had managed to talk the guard down with ease. She was impressed.

Shepard paused briefly ahead of her as the door opened to the processing chamber and she took several long, quick strides to close the distance and slide in only a few feet behind him as a worker pointed to the doors in the back and Shepard nodded. Aside from that little hiccup, the whole transfer was going relatively quickly and painlessly. She was surprised at the ease of the transaction. Given Subject Zero's nature and track record, she would have thought there would have been some resistance or hesitation. Maybe money was enough to silence those worries. Or maybe Shepard had a reputation in a lot of places. Not that she really minded. The last few weeks had been stressful enough.

She shook her head at the slight tangent at the end as Shepard reached the final door. No use wondering about an assignment that went smoothly. The door opened only to reveal an empty detainment cell. Miranda sighed. Maybe not so smooth and easy.

"My apologies Shepard," the warden's voice resounded in the room and all three of them turned to glance around at the dawning realisation of the trap. "you're more valuable as a prisoner than a customer. Drop your weapons and proceed into this open cell. You will not be harmed."

Shepard shook his head in disgust. "You talked up your noble intentions with this prison." he drew his shotgun and nearly growled "But it turns out you're a criminal like the rest."

"Activate systems!" the warden's worried yell rang out as she and Garrus quickly drew as well and slid into quick cover as the door they had entered slid open and several guards swarmed in, firing as soon as they crossed the threshold. Shepard fired two quick rounds into the oncoming guards, one glancing off armour as the second shot tore into a guard's leg. He screamed and buckled at the blow before Garrus fired two quick shots into the guard's chest from behind his cover. The guard gurgled only briefly as he collapsed and died, but the other guard merely shot at Shepard as two more pushed into the room with a small mech.

Miranda threw out her arm, energy pulsing deep inside before it exploded out of her hand and collided with the mech. She then quickly aimed and squeezed the trigger in quick succession, three blasts punching into the dog like mech's head. With a scrambled whine it exploded, slamming one of the guards against the wall with a grunt before Shepard vaulted his cover and charged, shotgun blasting through the first guard closest to him before he spun and emptied a round into the chest of the second new guard. Quickly, Garrus and Miranda both fire into the guard against the wall before Shepard slammed into it for cover as the metallic scraping of two more mechs drown out the chatter of the mobilising guards.

With a quick click he ejected the overheated heat sink and slid in a new one. Garrus ran from behind the table to the other side of the door and nodded to Shepard as Miranda held back to watch the two swing into the door and fire into the two oncoming mechs. She couldn't help but admire the calm and brutal efficiency. Shrapnel ricocheted off the walls as both mechs exploded. With a wave, Shepard pushed into the hallway. Miranda held her pistol at the ready, following behind the two as they made their way to the left. The warden had clearly not thought this through. She would have had twenty men outside the door... though that would have been pointless. She wouldn't have let Shepard keep his weapons. Idiots.

Two guards popped from cover to pepper the trio with gunfire and Shepard leaned into a small bulkhead, rounds mostly hitting the metal though a few glancing hits pinged his shields. Garrus fired three quick bursts down the hall as Miranda knelt and provided cover fire for him as she ducked into cover to quickly reload a heat sink. She swore as three shots suddenly crashed into her shields, sending her off balance, as two more guards ran into the hallway in front of them. Instinctively she threw out her arm and sent a biotic pulse down the hall, grunts erupting as armour dangerously warps around flesh before Shepard popped from cover and fired off four successive rounds. Two guards crashed into the wall and fell dead at the vicious shotgun blasts as another spun at the impact before Garrus quickly fired into his back, killing him. The last guard tried to raise his gun and fire, but Miranda regained her balance and hollowed his head with one precise shot.

"You alright?" Shepard glanced at her briefly before she nodded.

"I'm good Commander." she stood and moved forward, scavenging two heat sink clips from the dead guards as Shepard nodded and pushed forward to the end of the hall.

He waited for her and Garrus to set before raising his shotgun to the ready and cautiously reaching out to the panel. Her hands steadily raised her pistol as the door hissed open. She squeezed the trigger twice as one unarmoured man raised a pistol. It didn't even level at her before he dropped to the ground, two holes in his chest. She was annoyed at the sloppy efforts to contain them so far. People really needed to have more pride in their work. Shepard quickly scanned the room before walking over to the control console.

"If we hack that control, every door on the cell block opens." she nodded to the console, remembering the details from the specs of the prison they had garnered. She always planned for people to do something stupid like try to capture Shepard.

"It's the only way to get Jack out of cryo." Garrus added before Shepard nodded.

"I'm doing it, be ready." he hacked the console quickly and released the locks, the giant crane quickly swinging up and around to unlock the unit itself before pulling up. Miranda calmly watched as a chair rose from the frigid mist, a bald and heavily tattooed woman strapped into it.

"That's Jack?" her voice tinged with a smidge of surprise. Understated was something that would never be levelled at this woman, ever. And almost as if by cue, Jack's eyes opened as her arms strained and the braces over her wrists quickly snap before she rips the collar from her neck.

Miranda shook her head as three YMIR mechs started to press around the newly released prisoner. This wasn't good. She then blinked as Jack suddenly let out a wild shout and charged forward. She stood in shock for a second before a biotic wave flashed and an explosion rocked the room.

"We have to get down there!" she stated the obvious as she regained her balance from the explosion and readied her pistol. Shepard quickly turned and opened the door and rushed down the ramped hall, a mechanised voice blaring warning before another explosion rocks the room. "Sounds like heavy fighting."

Shepard simply pushed into the room and Miranda followed, noting the destroyed mechs with a slight sense of shock. Shepard quickly checked one of the destroyed mechs before turning to the hole blasted in the wall as the warden barked orders off the intercom. She didn't pay much attention, instead scanning the destruction wrought by Jack as they move down the hallway to another hole blasted into a wall. She gripped her pistol tighter as they slowly walked into the massive bay, fires roaring in multiple places as the giant crane loudly creaked then crashed down to the floor. She shook her head. Talk about pent up frustrations.

Shepard quickly pointed out two zones on the nearby bridge and she nodded before running with Garrus and sliding into cover as Garrus provided quick covering fire from his vantage point. She focused briefly before popping up and shooting at the guards in cover, providing covering fire as Shepard ran behind her and to the far side of the bridge, slowly trying to outflank the three visible guards. She dropped back down into cover as Shepard slid behind fallen piece of debris, her heat sink hissing as she ejects it and throws in a new one. One of the guards tried to press forward, but Shepard stood and fired two rounds into his chest. Blood splattered the floor as a hole was blown through the guard's chest and his body rag dolled backwards from the force of the blow.

The two remaining guards ran forward wildly at the sight, spraying the area with rounds as the distinctive stomping of a mech shook the ground slightly. Miranda peeked over the railing before hissing and ducking back down as sparks erupted off the railing from the mech's rapid fire. Garrus tried to distract the mech with careful shots as Shepard swung around his cover and shoulder blocked one guard while shooting the other in the face point blank. He then quickly dropped his barrel and blasted the downed guard before he can recover.

The mech continued to suppress Miranda, ignoring Garrus' shots. She took a deep breath as she focused her energy, catching sight of Shepard from the corner of her eye pulling free the grenade launcher. She nodded and exhaled before rolling from cover. Her shields took several hits and wavered threateningly with her power surging before she pushes it out and into the mech violently. Its joints whined only slightly, but it was enough to stop the constant barrage and give her shields a reprieve as it sought to regain its balance. Shepard didn't give it a chance. It exploded into a hail of fire and debris as the grenade hit it square right above the waist.

Miranda stood and rolled her shoulder, slightly sore from the hits her shield had taken, as debris rained around her. She waved off a glance from Shepard before EDI chimed on the comms.

"Shepard, the warden has locked down the area behind you. You must find another exit." Shepard merely nodded and continued forward, stopping by a body briefly and saying something to Garrus before picking up a discarded rifle.

She was only noting general words, her eyes and concentration drawn towards the flames and the wreckage more than anything else as they walked. This level of destruction wasn't normal for any biotic and she was beginning to second guess the choice of this particular individual for the mission. Of course she wasn't too pleased with her to begin with. Rash, violent, unpredictably chaotic... and if she caused this much damage routinely, she wasn't sure she would like that chaotic violence to suddenly explode anywhere near her. Hopefully this was just a case of pent up rage and energy from the incarceration. Miranda sighed. She hated the growing variables in this mission.

A round ricocheted off the floor and shook her from her slight meandering and she ducked into cover as Shepard rolled through the door and into the next bay. Several guards sprayed gunfire from a balcony just across from them, keeping Shepard pinned down. With a quick flick, one of the guns shorted in a guards hand and he growled in pain as the other guard was slightly thrown off balance. Shepard quickly popped up and fired two bursts into each guard's chest then ducked back down as a third spun around debris on the floor. He didn't get a single shot off as both Miranda and Garrus shot him in the chest, shield's failing immediately and blood spattering lightly as the guard's body was jolted back into the debris as he died.

Miranda quickly ejected her heat sink clip and inserted a new one as Shepard knelt and scavenged several more clips from the bodies. More guards could be heard down further in the bay and Shepard adjusted his rifle then briskly marched forward and aimed down the sights. A quick burst erupted from his rifle and then a grunt and light thud as one guard was quickly downed. Miranda fell in step a few paces behind and took aim as well, though it wasn't needed at all. Shepard shifted just slightly, the barrel of his weapon sliding gracefully before fire burst from it again. Within a matter of seconds as he calmly marched ahead the guards in the little dip in the bay were dead. She shook her head at the speed and efficiency of that man. He was a damn machine practically.

Her eyes set in recognition as his hand signalled and she nodded before tucking slightly and sprinting ahead into the cover he had designated. Garrus quickly followed similar orders as Shepard set himself in between the two of them and knelt behind cover, rifle still at the ready as another YMIR Mech lumbered at the far end of the bay, slowly making its way towards them.

"Miranda," his calm voice carried remarkably well despite the distant gunfire and constant explosions rocking the facility. "Bring that thing's shields down."

She merely nodded and focused before stepping out of cover. She flung out one arm, omni tool flaring to life for a brief moment as the surge exploded from it and into the mech's shields, and her other levelled the pistol and she fired off a half dozen rounds before quickly snapping back into cover as the mech swung towards her, a stream of bullets biting into the metallic floor before bouncing harmlessly off the structure she took cover behind. The mech's shields flickered briefly at the assault before shorting and with a quick hand signal, Garrus swung out of cover firing as Shepard calmly stood and fired in quick successive bursts. Miranda hissed slightly as several rounds barrelled from above her and into Shepard's shields and she shot out of cover and quickly scanned the bay before seeing guards on the catwalk at the end of the bay. She took aim and fired, her rounds tearing through one guard's chest with no resistance before two perfectly placed shots punched through the other guard's shields and through his skull as the familiar whir of the mech's system overloading sounded off to the side before the huge machinery tumbled uselessly to the ground. Another heat sink hissed as she ejected it. These people hadn't done their homework at all... this wasn't even a challenge. She was getting disappointed.

With another wave of his hand Shepard moved forward, rifle at the ready. She and Garrus quickly fell into a tight formation behind him, both scanning their flanks and rear as they quickly moved to the end of the bay and to the door. Shepard pushed the panel and the door slid open.

An escaped prisoner dropped in front of them, dead, as two more were either running or hiding in vain. With two quick shots, one to a running prisoner's back and the other to a whimpering and cowering prisoner's head, it was over.

"You're valuable Shepard." The warden turned to them quickly, his shields glowing strong as he suddenly fired. The round ricocheted off a container in front of them, Shepard diving to the right as she and Garrus ducked behind the crates to the left. "I could have sold you and lived like a king. But you're too much trouble!" he shrugged, the large sniper rifle exaggerating the movement. Miranda quickly shifted and darted next to Shepard in cover as the warden spoke "At least I can recapture Jack."

*Not happening!" Shepard flinched as the warden pulled off a quick shot, the round punching into the crate near his head. "You're a two bit slave trader and I don't have time for it!"

"I don't the hard things civil governments aren't willing to! This is for the good of the galaxy!" he fired another shot at his declaration.

Shepard only shook his head then signalled his orders. Miranda nodded and spun out to his right flank as Garrus fell back and to the left, both aimed at the doors feeding into the room. Miranda smiled. Shepard knew what he was doing, that was for sure. She squeezed the trigger as the door slid open and a few guards tried to flank them. The first two shots pinged uselessly off a shield before the third hit home with a squeal from the guard. She shifted slightly, rolling in cover to the opposite side to get a better shot as the guards ran in, trying to find their own cover.

She could hear a faint curse from Shepard but didn't turn around to see what was wrong. Two more guards forced their way through the door. She took a breath and lashed out with her biotics. Both screamed in agony as their legs crumpled beneath them, bones snapped and twisted at the force of her field warping the space around their legs. She ignored them and swept her attention back to the first guard. He had tried to take cover, but apparently he wasn't too well trained or the gunshot earlier was too painful for clear thinking. She fired. His neck snapped back, head thumping off the wall with a wet crunch before he lifelessly slid to the side and to the floor.

"Amateurs." she growled at the sloppy force, though she should have probably been far happier at the fact. What could she say, she was a complex woman. She hungered for a challenge.

She whipped her gun around at a second moving figure and quickly fired off several bursts. Much like the rest, it was too easy and the guard didn't even get a shot off before he grabbed at his bloody throat gasping for air. She shook her head again then calmly turned back to the screaming and crippled guards. With two quick bullets, their screaming fell silent. She finally looked to Shepard, weaving through gunfire and cursing before slamming into cover. 

"The pylons!" he shouted and pointed to one of the shimmering rods extended from the floor, beams of energy arcing over in a bubble to protect the warden.

She didn't need anything more, with a quick flick towards one, she blasted a surge of energy into one of the pylons and it erupted in sparks and debris. It went down rather quickly and she smirked before turning to another and shooting it as Shepard through the rifle he had picked up away and pulled out the sniper strapped to his back and readied himself. Miranda smirked again then turned to the final pylon as Garrus covered them both from any remaining guards. In a shower of sparks the shield over the warden vanished and Shepard quickly snapped up. Two thunderous rounds echoed in the room and Miranda shook her head at the ringing in her ears. The warden simply crumpled where he had stood, the two quick shots depleting his shields then simply pulverising his skull. Quick and brutal. A perfect shot. She was getting disturbed at how often Shepard was impressing her.

Shepard stood and slid the rifle back into place before drawing his pistol, though the dead bodies littered across the facility probably meant he didn't need it anymore. Miranda took a glance around and shook her head. Shepard had been good when he was near crazed with grief and shock, but this was something else. They were barely touched and they had just surgically sliced through their forces in under an hour. The files on him didn't do him any justice. He really was something special. He was as damned good as advertised. She almost hated it as she just escaped a wince at a familiar pang twisted deep inside as one thought flitted through her mind for a brief second: _and unlike you, he wasn't engineered for it._


	19. A Quiet Night of Rambling Thoughts

His finger idly circled the rim of the partially filled glass. His eyes drooped slightly, a half distant gaze locked on the smoky bronze liquid lightly rippling in the glass. He was tired, there was just no getting around that. It was already a chore to keep his eyes as focused as they were. He sighed gently. He'd have to sleep eventually. No amount of desperate stubbornness could change that. He shook his head, slightly annoyed. It wasn't like they were nightmares to run from... far from it. Most were just simply the incoherent absurdity of jumbled dreams though a few memories slipped in from time to time. He just hated waking. Those first few moments as he woke burned inside. She was gone. The void her absence created always flared to life each morning. They reminded him painfully. It was the only time he couldn't restrain the grief.

_How long..._ he frowned. It was difficult to remember and it bothered him. _Two...no, three months?_

The finger circling the glass was soon pressed tight against his temple as he strained and pushed his way through the muck of the last few months. No. Years. It had been years. Maybe not from his unique position, but to the rest of the universe, two years had gone by. It still didn't feel quite real. But then that really wasn't a surprise. He was dead. He was brought to life. Reality wasn't as simple and normal as the world loved to say.

He pressed harder against his temple. Life just couldn't be simple. He chuckled then lowered his hand to grab the glass and take a quick swig of the scotch. Never simple, but at least it was familiar. He almost smiled as he leaned back and let his eyes wander the dimmed mess hall. It was strange. Here he was sitting in what should be an eerily similar mess on a ship that wasn't his Normandy but... was at the same time. It should have twisted him inside. Or disturbed him at least. But he was comforted. He chuckled again at his rambling thoughts.

_Why not?_ _Long calm voyages between systems, a fire fight here and there, a dire threat lurking somewhere in the vast void of space, and just one little ship daring to fight back. _He raised his glass in a silent toast. _You may not be the same, but damned if you aren't trying! _

He tossed back the glass and hissed pleasantly as the scotch burned down his throat. He was adapting. Like always. He poured another glass for himself. Of course the new ship didn't come without its quirks. Some of the new crew was harder to adapt to.

_Well, mostly Jack. _He admitted to himself before taking another drink at the memory of the brash, vocal, and almost lunatic nature of the young woman. He'd have to watch her closely. He could trust the Cerberus agents on board to stay that blade poised at his back... at least for now. But Jack... he wasn't sure if she wouldn't snap at any moment.

_Yeah... well, she almost tore apart Purgatory singlehandedly. _He shook his head in slight awe at that. It was impressive. And luckily she seemed to have calmed a great deal once he gave her the files from Cerberus. He shrugged. He'd watch her closely. If she snapped he'd deal with it. He'd faced worse and survived.

_Hell you died and survived that! _He snorted and raised his glass at that before settling into the chair with a sigh. He had to admit... it felt damn good being on the job. He hadn't failed his mission and, more importantly, he hadn't failed to keep his promise. His eyes closed at that and then he shook his head and leaned back again, taking long deep breaths. He was alive. And he would make sure the Reaper's regretted ever crossing his path.

He took another sip of his drink as the doors to the left hissed open suddenly. His eyes smoothly slid over to the disturbance as Miranda walked out, her gaze instantly drawn to his and her head tilting before she simply nodded in his direction as she swerved around to the kitchen area. He dimly noted her striking eyes and soft features before slightly wincing, closing his eyes, and shaking his head.

_Damn it... waaaaayyyy too tired boy... way too tired. _He exhaled and took another drink. He quickly buried the brief mental lapse deep, eyes still closed, as the soft sounds of her searching echoed lightly through the mess. It was a mistake. He drifted, slumping in the chair slightly as his head lulled slightly. He didn't notice the minutes pass.

"Commander." he almost jumped at her voice and sat straight in the chair as he blinked. Miranda stood close by, a steaming cup in her hands. "I'm sure your bed is far more comfortable."

He blinked some more, his eyes then narrowing slightly at the slight lilt in her words and something he swore was amusement briefly sparkling in her eyes. He shook his head and wiped his face with one hand.

"Hadn't realised I was quite that tired." he rolled his shoulders as Miranda looked at him for a few moments before she only nodded and turned to walk back to her quarters.

"I'm sure Doctor Chakwas can give you something if you are having trouble sleeping." She half turned back to him. "Though if it is the implants, I may need to run some scans and..."

"No, no..." he sighed as he stood, cutting her off. _Figures, worried about her precious project. _He winced unconsciously at that thought. "Sleep isn't the problem. I promise."

She looked at him, noting his reaction with a silent sigh of her own before nodding and walking into her quarters, the doors closing quickly behind her. Shepard pinched his nose and shook his head before grabbing his glass and bottle and slowly walking to the elevator.

_Sleep definitely isn't the problem..._ he pushed the console for his quarters, slightly dreading the morning ritual. Even if it was growing less intense each new morning. He clenched his jaw at the stray thought sneakily slipping through and echoing in his mind.

She stretched her arms out in front of her, lacing her fingers together to gently pull her tight feeling knuckles loose. The report had been more detailed than some. She had grown quite efficient and managed to usually give concise, short reports on any mission. But sometimes a unique situation called for a little more detail and longer drawn out appraisals. Jack definitely fit that bill perfectly.

She took a deep breath and rolled her neck gently. She was actually more sore from working over the console most of the evening and night than she had been from dodging bullets on Purgatory just a few days ago. Of course, she hadn't planned on having to put the report off for as long as she did and felt obliged to tear through it in one sitting. She sighed. It was clear she and Jack were not going to get along. At all.

_First time I've been called a cheerleader..._ she stood and shrugged, more amused by the random comment than whatever she was supposed to feel. It certainly was less demeaning than Cerberus Bitch. She chuckled. _Not like I haven't been called bitch before._

She walks over to her bed and sits, noting the late hour. She sighed. She really wanted a cup of tea but it was best to try and get some rest. She slowly loosened the combat heels and pulled them off with a slight sigh, stretching her toes and ankle.

"Miranda, Miranda... why don't you get some comfortable shoes to wear" she chuckled again as she slowly laid back in the bed, staring at the ceiling and then answering her own question in her head _A woman has to look good._

She sighed. She really wasn't sure anymore. Did she wear the shoes simply to wield her looks? Most men, and even many women, did love the style. But... did she actually like it herself? She shook her head and almost growled. What a stupid thing to wonder. She never thought about stuff like all that much before. She just did it and was damn content. She blamed Shepard. She closed her eyes. It was becoming more prominent, harder to ignore. All his greatness, his achievements... they were his. No questions asked. It was a stark reminder of their differences... of what she was. Could she really claim any of her achievements for herself?

She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before sighing again and sitting up.

"Tea it is then." she stood and started to walk, noticing the cold floor beneath her bare feet immediately. She stopped and then looked at the discarded heels for a moment before shrugging. It was only a few meters at most. And no one would be up. She could risk it. She took a breath, shook her head at the seconds wasted, then started walking. Sometimes her own thoughts annoyed her. Or maybe it was just the exhaustion and soreness. The doors hissed open as she pondered that idly before movement catches her eyes and she looks over, her gaze catching Shepard's as he sits behind the mess table.

_He looks tired._ She tilted her head briefly before simply nodding in his direction then turning around the corner to the kitchen. _He's not in his quarter's either..._ she noted as she rose on her toes and started digging for the tea on the upper shelf. She grabbed a bag and flicked on the hot water maker before grabbing a mug as she settled on her bare feet on the cold floor. She almost sighed.

_Of course..._ she took a breath _just my luck. _ She shook her head briefly before clenching her teeth and forcing her thoughts quickly back to Shepard. She was actually a bit glad to see him not locking himself in his quarters on off hours. It was something. She nodded at that as she went about getting the bad and mug ready before mixing the water, steam rising quickly. He seemed to be adapting, overcoming the shock finally.

She smiled slightly, dimly noting that not all of it was for the success of Lazarus. She turned to walk back to her quarters with her hot cup of tea and blinked. Shepard was slumped slightly, head lulled just to the side, fast asleep. He really was tired. She tilted her head and walked over.

"Commander." he slightly jumped at her voice and she almost chuckled in amusement. "I'm sure your bed is far more comfortable."

She simply held her tea as he blinked a few times, apparently pulling his thoughts together.

"Hadn't realised I was quite that tired." he rolled his shoulders. She looked at him, doubts creeping in before simply nodding then turning to go back to her quarters. It wasn't any of her business. It wasn't... she sighed.

"I'm sure Doctor Chakwas can give you something if you are having trouble sleeping." She half turned back to him, neck craned slightly to look over her shoulder as a worry nudged into her mind. Maybe an implant was malfunctioning. A slight twinge twisted deep inside. "Though if it is the implants, I may need to run some scans and..."

"No, no..." he cut her off. His eyes flashed angirily for a just a brief second. "Sleep isn't the problem. I promise."

She just looked at him for a moment, a silent sigh lifting her shoulders slightly before dropping them. She nodded and turned to walk back into her quarters. She shook her head as the doors closed. She hadn't meant to annoy him. She took a sip of her tea as she walked to her bed before setting it down. It bothered her. She slowly worked her suit off, hanging it up before gently unsnapping her bra and tossing it in the clothes bin. _Why does it bother me?_ She stretched one last time, free of the somewhat constricting suit, before pulling the sheets to the side then sitting and trying to calm her mind. _It never bothered me before_. She almost growled, again, and tried to shake it out of her head before she laid back in bed, arms spread to the side. _This isn't like you Miranda... _she sighed and shimmied up to pull the covers over herself. She closed her eyes and exhaled gently, the weariness slowly claiming her as one last thought echoed in her mind.

_Or maybe you just don't want to admit it._


	20. So Damn Hot

"One big mother..." Jacob grunted as he and Shepard balanced and guided the enormous stasis pod onto the dolly. Shepard nodded briefly before hissing, arms straining as the pod tipped off balance. With a grunt he pushed and slowly righted the pod before gently laying it flat on the dolly.

"Krogans don't do small." Shepard wiped his forehead and took a deep breath, lungs burning. "But maybe that's a blessing. One big angry Krogan on our side..." his mind glossed over the possibilities briefly then he simply shrugged.

"Unless he doesn't like you." Jacob shook his head at the risks piling up then waved over several crewmen before nodding at the commander.

"And who wouldn't like me?!" Shepard laughed and nodded back in recognition and Jacob began manoeuvring the tank towards the exit, Jacob only smirking in response the question.

Shepard let his chuckled fade as he watched for a few moments before turning to give one last glance at the corpse near the console and sighing. It was a small failure, but recovering the tank bred Krogan made up for it. And he had to admit... he wasn't too broken up over the loss.

_I've met my quota for old, battle tested hard heads in my life_. He chuckled slightly. _Of course, a young unhardened Krogan could be worse._ _There better not be puberty..._ he almost shuddered at that horrid thought. His pragmatism hadn't quite made up its mind yet, old and familiar with Okeer or this new and mysterious tank bred Krogan. He shook his head free of the worry then walked over and knelt by Okeer.

"You died well at least." he gave a curt nod and took a deep breath before standing back up. His eyes flicked over the smoking rubble and mangled corpses littering the tank filled room on the other side of the glass. "Just another day at the office..."

He sighed and turned away from the carnage then walked towards the door.

_I am far too used to this..._ He wiped his forehead again, this time from the heat and not exertion. It was damn hot. He wouldn't miss the horrid little junk scrap at all. He squinted as the door hissed open and he was greeted by the bright sunlight glinting off the hull of the Normandy. Hot and rank and filled with mercenaries.

_Of course, the universe couldn't play nice and make it a quick pick up_... he shook his head and stretched. It had to force him and his team to blast through several waves of frantic, loud mercenaries and several pissed of tank bred Krogan. His whole body burned and he pulled at his suffocating armour. _Almost out of here..._

He exhaled slowly then walked over to a ruined pillar, leaning against it and revelling in the slight shade it offered as he let his eyes wander over the dozen crew members wrangling the oversized tank over the bumpy terrain and slowly starting up the ramp. He watched intently as one slim, short blonde woman made several circles around the tank, checking readings on her omni-tool. She barked out several quick statements, punched in several sequences of information, and nodded before she gasped as several voices shouted and grunted loudly. The dolly slid diagonally, sliding back and off to the side. The woman quickly jumped back out of the way then retreated into the ship as t threatened to spill over the side, Several more crew members jogged over to pull at it without any orders, inching it back toward the centre before straightening out and hunkering down to keep it stable. With a shout of thanks and smile at the help, Jacob resettled beneath the dolly then barked an order and the team pushed it up and into the ship slowly. Shepard grunted and gave a slight nod in reluctant growing respect at the team's response before standing tall again and groaning, skin itching horribly under the armour.

"Note to self... stay far, far away from this scrap heap." he stretched and wiped his head yet again, flicking his hand out to shake the sweat from it as he started to walk. His eyes stung and the inside of his suit felt grimy, clinging to his body with a suffocating embrace. He almost broke into a run as he drew closer to the ship, the cool dark walls almost teasing.

"Very good. Keep me posted of all changes in the vitals or cognitive state of the Krogan, EDI." his eyes slid over at the almost imperceptible strain in Miranda's voice and his pace slowed slightly. He almost choked and completely missed EDI's response as his eyes gazed at Miranda. Her hair clung to her flushed cheeks and over her shoulders. The smouldering beauty of her cascading, clingy hair on the soft curves of her reddened cheeks stole his breath for a moment. He let his eyes slowly work their way over to her red lips before following one of the strands of clinging hair over her neck and down her shoulder. A slight darkness marred the normal white of her suit, sweat making it cling even tighter around her shoulders as he followed her hair to tips, where they clung to her just above the swell of her breasts, each breath straining the suit even further until small dark circles greeted his eyes. He took a breath as his eyes gazed at the faint outline hungrily for a few long moments before wandering down her body helplessly and widening slightly. The curve of her ass was almost maddening as the suit was basically a second skin, moulding around her in the heat.

_Damn..._

He slowed unconsciously, his gaze trapped on her maddeningly teasing suit as he watched her ass move as she simply shifted her weight. It was almost hypnotic. He bit his cheek at the sight then blinked and shook his head, the pain clearing his addled mind just enough to pick up speed as he started to look away. But his eyes weren't quick enough in gazing back to the ship before she turned slightly toward him. He swallowed and would have blushed if not already flush with heat as his eyes snapped forward. The suit was definitely tighter as the brief little glimpse of the suit tightly clinging around her thighs and the small crease as it pulled up between her legs tugged at his imagination.

_Professional... be professional. Stop thinking about it!_

He tried to banish the memory, tried to reclaim some manner of gentlemanly stature but his lips only curled into a tight small smile as her wonderful curves refused to fade from his mind.

_Maybe the little scrap heap wasn't all bad._

She took a deep breath of the cool air as she waited for the lift. Her shoulders rolled as she stretched her neck and she exhaled slowly. She brushed the hair from her cheek only to sigh as it flopped back to cling to her skin stubbornly.

_Korlus certainly lived down to its reputation._ She growled and tried to flick the hair out of her face again as the lift returned. She stepped in with a huff, her shoulders rolling at the clinging and sweat soaked suit. She punched the console and it lurched up toward the crew deck.

_At least this wasn't for nothing..._ she fidgeted, the suit binding and pinching uncomfortably in several places. The lift was slow, infuriatingly slow to her. _I want out of this damn suit already!_

She tapped her foot against the metal grates of the floor, taking deep breaths of cool air and trying to settle down. She wasn't a huge fan of the heat, but normally she could tolerate it. But the prolonged march through waves of mercenaries under the scorching sun had torn her tolerance away.

_Couldn't have been Noveria... _she closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders as she stretched out one leg, the suit pinching at her thigh and chafing just under her ass and her panties pulled uncomfortably tight between her legs. _Maybe I should rethink my uniform... _she toyed with the little fantasy for a moment before shaking her head as the doors finally opened. It had proven itself useful a thousand times over. She smirked

_What you can get people to do just by flaunting your curves... _she stifled a chuckle and marched out of the lift and immediately veered to the left and into the showers. _The maybe ditch the damn underwear... _she stretched, trying to dislodge the panties before she caught her reflection out of the corner of her eye and she smirked again.

_It does makes me look good..._ she rolled her shoulders and stretched again. _Small price to pay._ _Even Shepard can't resist stealing a glance!_ A small little smile curled her lips, the memory of his wide eyes wandering over her body before he had almost run up the ramp, eyes futilely snapping forward to hide his glances. The small little girl inside her fluttered to life briefly before Miranda turned to face the mirror and her eyes widened in shock. She growled. _That's just a little too much!_

She tore the zipper down violently and shook her hips slightly as her eyes glared at the dark circles of her nipples peeking through clearly and the crease teasing from between her legs, the suit clinging far too tightly and showing far more than she wanted. With a sigh, she pulled at one side of the top of her suit and began to peel the soaking clingy monstrosity off her skin. She mumbled near silent curses to herself as she wiggled her hips, pushing the suit down her thighs then unzipping her boots and kicking both them and the sweaty suit off to the side.

She shook her head with a grunt as she unhooked her bra, soaked completely through and flimsily transparent. She slid it off and with a casual flick she tossed it away before sliding her fingers toward her panties with a growl. She grabbed the waist band and pushed, straining slightly as they resist sliding over her ass and clung tightly between her legs. She exhaled when they finally gave and slid down her legs. She stood up then kicked them into the pile too and took a relieved breath at the feel of cool air on her naked skin. She stood for a few moments and stretched, glad to have the pinching, clinging clothes off.

_Much better. _She took a breath then stepped forward into the shower. With a quick flick of her wrist she started the water and shook her head at the pile of clothes.

_He better have enjoyed the damn show... _ She moaned as the cool water began to cascade over her skin and shiver, smiling slightly before coughing and closing her eyes, doing her best to convince herself that the shivering moan was for nothing more than for the wonderfully relieving and cool shower. The slight, tickling flutter deep in her stomach made that almost impossible.


End file.
